


Until the Sun will cease her Sway

by Lakritzwolf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Durincest, Heartache, Hurt, M/M, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slash, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 69,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/><br/>  </p>
</div>After surviving the Battle of the five Armies, Fili and Kili become Crown Prince and Consort of Erebor. Their first diplomatic mission goes smooth and is succesful. But then Fili has a run-in with a woman who is, unbeknownst to him, a witch, who curses him and his lover both. Now Fili and Kili have to find a way to break this curse before it is too late and their souls will be claimed by what the curse has done to their bodies.
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_The last thing Fili feels is pain._

_“Run!” His last word._

_And then the searing, indescribable pain as he is skewered by Azog’s blade. His world lurching as he falls. His breath being knocked out of his lungs as he hits the ground. Can’t breathe. More pain.  
Then darkness swallows him._

Only to spit him out again into abominable pain.

Even opening his eyes caused him too much pain, and with a moan of pain so weak it is was hardly more than a sigh he gave up on it.   
But the moment he had made this sound, he felt a hand on his cheek.

“Fili. Thank Mahal you’re awake.”

The hand was gone, and Fili tried to identify the voice. It was hard to think through the haze of pain clouding his mind. But eventually a name appeared that matched the voice, although he couldn’t say it. It hurt too much. 

“It was a near thing.” Ori’s gentle voice. “Even with elfish healing magic we weren’t sure if you would pull through.”

Fili tried again to open his eyes. This time, he managed. Some memories came back as above him, the rough cloth of a tent swam into focus. Battle. Fighting.

_Will you follow me..._   
_One last time..._   
_Du Bekar!_   
_I got this._   
_Go._   
_Run!_

“Kili...” Mahal, breathing hurt, but talking was agony. The thought of his brother, however, was worse.  
“Kili is alive,” he could hear Ori say. “And so is Thorin. How you three managed to survive gut wounds is a mystery even to the elves, but I won’t question our luck.”  
Fili wasn’t feeling very lucky right now.  
“Azog and Bolg are dead,” Ori continued. “Those orcs that weren’t killed made a run for it, but there weren’t that many. I think the elves hunted most of them down.”

Fili closed his eyes again. Even looking at the cloth above him was too exhausting. He did not resist the darkness when it claimed him.

* * *

The next time he woke up the pain had lessened to a level that he could at least think straight again. And as the pain gave way, other sensations took its place. A burning thirst. And a complete inability to move.

“Are you awake?” Ori leaned over him and smiled.   
Fili tried to smile back and failed.  
“Apart from rotten and being eaten by pain, how do you feel?”  
This time, the smile came. Weak and laborious, but it came.  
“I thought as much.” Ori patted his cheek. “I guess you’re thirsty.”  
Fili tried to nod, but he couldn’t even move his head. With great effort, he opened his lips and felt them crack with dryness. “Yes,” he rasped. The pain of saying this one word was almost too much already.

“The trouble is,” Ori said, “That you can’t move, not even your head. But Bofur and Bifur have spent the last few hours figuring something out.”

Fili felt something touch his lips. He opened them and felt something soft being placed there, no thicker than a straw. 

“You just have to suck it up.”

Ori had always had a strange sense of humour.

But it worked. Whatever this tube between his lips was made of, he could drink from it. And whatever vile tasting concoction it was he was drinking didn’t matter either, he was too thirsty to mind. Afterwards, his mind was a little clearer and his lips obeyed him again.

“Why can’t I move?” Speaking still hurt like hell, though. He contended himself with whispering, which was bad enough.  
Ori hesitated. “The elfish healers tied you down,” he then said. “You’re swaddled from toe to crown.”  
“Why?” No, he couldn’t move. Not even a finger would bend. Not even his head would turn. The only things that responded to his attempts where his lips and eyes.

“They are afraid you might have broken your back,” Ori said, the tone of his voice both sad and nervous at the same time. “When you were found the first thing they did was to tell anyone not to touch you. Then they shoved a board under your back, and that took an hour at least so slow and careful were they. They tied you down like this and you’ve been tied down for a few days now.”  
Fili frowned. “But what...” He felt his face burn in sudden shame.  
“I’d rather not say,” Ori said uncomfortably.

Fili decided he’d rather not know, so that was as well.

“But you know,” Ori said soothingly. “It’s not certain you’ve really broken your back. It’s just a precaution. Because if you have, then this might save you, but if you haven’t... Better safe than sorry, I’d say.”  
“Me too,” Fili croaked, even if he had never felt so uncomfortable in his life before.   
“I’m afraid you will have to bear it for some time more.” Fili felt a hand touch his left upper arm. “I’m really sorry, I know it must be terrible, on top of that terrible pain from the wound.”  
“Better that than being a helpless cripple,” Fili gave back and closed his eyes again. He tried not to think of what it would mean if he already was.

“Where is Kili?” He asked after a moment, to distract himself.  
“He’s in the tent next to yours. We wanted to put you two together, but the healers said they needed more space to move around, being as you were so grievously injured.”  
“Kili too?”  
“Yes, but not as badly as you. He is already fidgeting and complaining when he’s not asking for you.”

Fili felt a smile tug at his lips. Of course his brother would begin to complain as soon as he was out of immediate danger of dying.

“What of Thorin?” He asked then.  
“He is mending.” Ori patted his arm again. “He had a fever to begin with because of Azog’s filthy blade, but he managed to kill that orc for it, so he’s fine with the price he paid. That’s what he said, at least.”

Fili nodded. Thorin would be, even if Azog had hacked off both his legs before Thorin could have made the kill.

“And now I must give you some more medicine,” Ori said after a moment. “I regret it, as it smells even fouler than the stuff you had to drink.”  
Fili blinked a few times. “Ori,” He whispered. “How is it that you are my personal carer?”  
Ori was silent for a moment. “I wanted to make myself useful,” he said then. “I don’t know the next thing about treating wounds, but I wanted to help, too. So I’m just sitting here with some books that survived in the mountain, making sure you are as comfortable as you can be in your state.”  
“Thank you,” Fili managed another smile.  
“Open up,” Ori said, in perfect imitation of a mother with a sick child. 

Fili obediently opened his mouth and felt a spoon touch his tongue. Whatever was on that spoon was thick and viscous, and it tasted like bile. Fili had a hard time swallowing it, but he felt the pain recede soon after. His mind felt fuzzy, too, and he drifted into blissfully painless unconsciousness.

* * *

Kili was driving everyone around him mad. It was almost a month after the battle, and he was able to sit up by now, but he still hadn’t seen his brother. No one allowed him to get up, and Dwalin had actually taken up the task to spend his days in Kili’s tent, glaring daggers at him to make him stay abed.  
Kili was so frustrated that occasionally, he kept staring daggers back. Anyone having stepped into their line of sight would have been torn to shreds.

“You gotta understand, lad,” Dwalin said at one point. “You canna just go and walk with that wound of yours.”  
“I know!” Kili crossed his arms, and the movement made him wince. “I just want to see my brother.”  
“He’s taken care of, I’ve told ye that a hundred times.”  
Kili looked up and glared at Dwalin through strands of unruly hair. “So everyone tells me.”  
“So why don’t ye just stop fretting and believe us?”  
“I do believe you.” Kili heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s just...”

Dwalin had his arms crossed, but when Kili dropped his head again, he uncrossed them and leaned forward. “We all only mean well, Kili.”  
“I know.” He looked up again, and there was so much pain in his eyes that Dwalin leaned back again. “But... he’s my brother. I haven’t seen him since he landed right in front of me, thrown down by Azog after that bloody bastard skewered him.”  
“He’s getting better, and so are you.”  
”I know but...” Kili gazed at Dwalin with burning eyes. “What if it was Balin in that other tent?”

Dwalin took a deep breath, and then he shook his head and slowly got up.

* * *

Still unable to move and by now driven half insane by some itch or another and the inability to do more than wrinkle his nose, Fili was understandably short tempered; his temper getting worse – and shorter – the more he healed. 

The elfish healer had put him through an incredibly humiliating and painful procedure of pricking every inch of his skin with a tiny needle to confirm that yes; he still had feeling in all of his body. And for it to remain that way he was told he still needed to be immobilized until any damage that the bones of his spine might have taken would have healed. He knew and accepted this, and it was still better than the alternative, but it was still driving him mad. But since he had been completely indifferent to it during the first week, he took it as a sign of betterment.

The tent flap opened, and even as Fili asked himself what elfish healing torture awaited him now, he could hear by the steps that this was no elf. Someone flopped into the chair at his bedside.

“Hey, brother.”  
Fili’s eyes went wide. “Kili? What are you doing here?”  
“I was... I wanted to see how you are.”  
“No... I mean...” Fili cleared his throat. “I mean how did you get here? I was told you couldn’t walk yet.”  
“I can’t.” Kili chuckled. “And I didn’t.”

Fili blinked in confusion.

“I carried him.”   
Fili grinned upon hearing Dwalin’s voice.  
“And I have him sitting on my lap like the little pestilent dwarfling that he is.”  
By the sound Dwalin made Fili could easily imagine that Kili had stuck out his tongue at him.

“How are you feeling?”  
Fili snorted. “Look at me. I’m tied up like a ham for curing. It brings back unpleasant memories from Mirkwood, too.”  
“I can imagine,” Kili replied. “But it still feels good to see you.”  
Fili caught the hitch in his brother’s voice. “I’m not dead, you know.”  
“I know.” Kili’s voice was suddenly rough. “But when Azog threw you down you landed almost on my feet. I thought you’d died and I went berserk. I wanted to get that bastard, but I was...”

“You ran into Bolg,” Fili finished for him. “Or so I was told.”  
“Yes. And I thought it didn’t matter if I died because I would see you again in the Halls.”  
Fili felt a lump in his throat.  
“But turns out we’re still alive after all.” Kili tried to sound cheerful, but Fili knew exactly when his brother was faking it.  
“To an extent,” Fili replied. “I won’t be happy about the fact before I know that I can, in fact, leave this bed again at one point.”

A heavy silence grew between the three dwarves.

“Do you think it’s that bad?” Kili sounded a little frightened; seeing his brother so helpless was taking a lot out of him, as he was far from fully recovered.   
“I won’t know, not before they release me, and that’s not going to happen before they are sure that every bone that might have broken is healed.” Fili gritted his teeth. “That’ll be in a few days, they said. And I can’t say if I’m more looking forward to that day or more terrified.”

Kili could not remember a single instance in his whole life where his older brother had admitted even to being scared. That he so blandly admitted he was terrified hurt something very deep inside his soul.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Kili ventured cautiously. “I mean, you did survive after all.”  
“Always the optimist.” Fili’s voice sounded a little strained. 

The uncomfortable silence was back.

“I think you should be back in bed, Kili,” Dwalin said after a moment, his voice somewhat gentler than usual. “You’re both still weak, as much as you try to play it down. Do us all the favour and stop pretending ye’re fine when ye’re clearly not.”  
“You’re right.” Kili sighed. “But it still felt good to see you, and to hear your voice.” He reached out, and Dwalin got the hint as he stood up and lowered Kili somewhat so he could touch his brother’s face.  
A small, crooked smile appeared on Fili’s lips. “Yes, it does.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” Kili said as they left. “If Mister Dwalin here agrees to play beast of burden again.”  
“I’ll have to as it’s the only thing that’ll stop the bloody whining.”

Fili listened to them bicker as they left him, and closed his eyes. Despite his anxiety he suddenly felt much better now that he had seen and spoken with his brother, and a small knot of worry vanished from his mind.

* * *

Fili’s torture ended five days after Kili’s first visit – he had come to see his brother twice a day since then – as the elfish healer taking care of him began to cautiously peel all the bandages away.

“You have to expect to be very stiff,” he said. “Do not immediately take it as a sign that you will never move again.”

Fili cautiously tried to nod and found, to his utter relief that he could.

The elf smiled at him and took his right hand, slowly pulling the arm up. “Does this hurt?”  
“No. It feels more like... pins and needles.”  
“Good.” The healer seemed genuinely satisfied. He massaged Fili’s hand and forearm for a while before he asked him to curl his fingers. 

Fili kept staring at his hand. His muscles didn’t obey him at first, but with a little effort, he could curl his fingers into a fist.

“Very good.” The healer seemed pleased. “Now the other.”

His right hand curled into a fist as well. Fili was close to tears by that time, partly from exhaustion and partly from relief.   
The elf now took his left leg, massaged the stiff muscles and carefully and slowly, bent the leg at the knee and rested the toes on the wooden board that had held Fili immobile for so long. He repeated this with the other leg. 

“Curl your toes.”

It took even more effort than curling his fingers but he did it. This time, the tears broke free, even if he managed not to sob.

“Can you stretch the legs again?”

Agonizingly slow and feeling like he was buried in an ant heap, but his legs sluggishly obeyed.

“You are one lucky dwarf,” the elfish healer said with a smile. “It astonishes me again and again what your kind can survive and what you can recover from. You seem indeed made from rock.”  
“I take that as a compliment,” Fili rasped with a breathless chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

Later the same day, Dwalin brought Kili the good news that his brother was still able to move and would walk again. Kili was so relieved uponhearing that that he wept, and Dwalin, always uncomfortable seeing feelings other than anger, left the tent to give him privacy to get his composure back.

But just as Kili was drying his tears he heard a scream, a terrible, harrowing scream of agony that dragged out long enough for Kili to recognise the voice as his brother’s. Without thinking he almost jumped out of the bed, ignoring his own pain, and stumbled towards the flap of his tent.

Dwalin spun around on his heels; he had heard the scream too but he had to grab Kili and lift him off the ground to keep him from running into Fili’s tent.

“Fili!” Kili was writhing in Dwalin’s arms; the horror of hearing his brother’s scream mingling with the pain in his abdomen forcing tears out of his eyes again. “Fili!”  
“Get yerself together lad!” 

Dwalin clamped his arms around Kili like a vice, and Kili gasped in pain. But as soon as the older dwarf relented his grip, Kili tore away from him with the strength of terror and staggered towards Fili’s tent.

“Fili!”

Four elfish healers stood around Fili’s cot as well as Ori who was currently holding Fili’s head. Fili himself was naked and lying face down, and Kili felt the bile rising in his throat at the sight of his brother’s back. It was one ugly, purplish bruise with patches of raw, oozing flesh where the skin had come off together with his clothes.

At the sound of his brother’s voice, Fili reared up despite Ori’s best efforts. “Get out!” His voice was raw and hoarse with pain. “Get away from me Kili! Get out!”

Before Kili could even retaliate, a pair of large, strong hands grabbed his shoulders and dragged him out of the tent again. Kili was too numb to resist.

“What is happening to him?” Kili whispered tonelessly, the pain in his abdomen all but forgotten. “What did they do to him?”  
Dwalin sighed heavily. “They tied him down like they found him on the Battlefield and didn’t even want to risk taking his clothes and armour off. He’s been lying on his back for six weeks like that without moving.”

Kili trembled under Dwalin’s hands and as his knees gave way Dwalin barely managed to catch him. Even the old, weathered warrior was shaken by what he had seen.

“But why did he yell at me to get away from him?” Kili’s voice sounded as small and frightened as a child’s.  
“My best guess is that he didn’t want you to see him like that,” Dwalin replied as he carried Kili back to his tent. “I surely wouldn’t have wanted that had it been me.”  
Kili didn’t reply, and just closed his eyes as Dwalin put him down on the cot.  
“Rest for now,” the old warrior said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Mahal knows ye need it.”

Kili closed his eyes, and while his body was glad for the rest, his mind could not calm down. His thoughts were racing; trying to fathom the unbearable pain that could have made his brother scream like he never had before. Shivering, he closed his eyes and could feel Dwalin pull his blanket up to his chin. It did little to dispel the coldness in his bones.

* * *

Fili didn’t think pain like that was possible. He couldn’t explain how he could feel pain like that and still be alive afterwards. He had thought he knew pain, but today he had learned what it meant to be in agony when the healer had peeled his blood-crusted and sweat-soaked clothes off him that had stuck to his skin for weeks. Soaking the garments beforehand had had little effect.  
According to Ori’s stammered description, his mail had carved the pattern of its rings into the skin on his shoulders and the rest of his back, from nape to haunches, was one bruised, gangrenous mess.

By now, after the wounds had been cleaned and wrapped in bandages the pain had abated to a bearable level, but despite being bone-wearily exhausted from the torture he had gone through he was still in too much pain to fall asleep. 

“Ori,” he whispered hoarsely.  
Ori’s worried face hovered into view.  
“Do you have any more of that vicious stuff for the pain?”

Ori nodded, and after a few moments, a spoon touched Fili’s lips. He forced the thick, bitter liquid down his raw and mangled throat, but after a few minutes he felt the medicine take effect. Rarely had he welcomed sleep so much.

* * *

When Fili drifted back into consciousness – and pain – he could not suppress a groan; but before he had even opened his eyes he felt a hand on his cheek that was not Ori’s. He knew that hand, and with great effort, forced his eyelids open to see his brother, looking anxious and worried.

“Fee?”  
“I’m still alive,” Fili whispered. His throat was still too raw to speak.  
Kili wordlessly took Fili’s hand between both of his.  
“Sorry I yelled at you...”  
“Don’t be.” Kili squeezed his hand. “I guess you didn’t... you didn’t want me to see you like that.” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry...”  
“Don’t be,” Fili gave back and managed to give his brother a small, laborious smile. “I should stop treating you like the baby brother you no longer are.”

Kili smiled at that, but as Fili’s mind became somewhat clearer he noticed how haggard and pale his brother looked. His eyes were sunken and deeply shadowed, and the skin on his face stretched tightly over the cheekbones. Even his shirt hung more loosely from his shoulders than it had any right to.

“You’re not well yourself yet,” Fili whispered. “You look ghastly.”  
Kili’s lips twitched. “Thanks to Bolg. He pierced my stomach, and the elves had to stitch it back together. I’ve not been allowed food yet, only some sort of herbal concoction that smells like troll piss and tastes even worse.”  
Fili frowned at that. “You haven’t eaten the whole time?”

Kili shook his head, and Fili’s frown deepened.

“Well, I did try to defy them,” Kili said then, his face drawn into an uncomfortable frown. “Once.”  
“What happened?”  
“I tried to eat some bread,” he muttered, avoiding Fili’s eyes. “And I vomited blood for hours afterwards. I don’t think I’ve ever been in so much pain. And I put too much of a strain to the stitching, they said. So now it’ll even be longer until I’m allowed to eat again.”

It cost him some effort, but Fili closed his fingers around his brother’s. “It’ll be all right.”  
Kili tried to smile.  
“No, it will be,” Fili went on. “It’ll take much longer than we like, but come spring we’ll be comparing scars and laugh about all this over a pint and a pipe.”  
“Sounds good to me,” Kili said softly. 

Then he leaned forward and nudged his Fili’s forehead with his own.

* * *

When the weather showed signs of a coming winter storm, the wounded were moved into the mountain. After that long a time there were not that many left, but Thorin, letting Balin and Dwalin act in his name, made sure that the wounded Men were offered refuge in the mountain, too. 

Bard had in the weeks since the battle overseen some re-building and reconstruction in Dale so that the inhabitants of Lake Town had shelter for the winter. Again, in an attempt at making reparations, Thorin had asked of his dwarves that they help Bard’s people as much as they could.

 _“We have brought grievous harm over his people,_ ” Thorin had said. _“We will not stand idly by and let them freeze to death._ ”

So it was that when Fili left his sickbed for the first time, he did so inside the mountain. The memories of this place were few and not good ones, either, but he could see that, given time, the empty, ravaged halls could become home again. His home. His family’s home.

He was leaning heavily on his brother as he left his room; Kili was by now recovered enough and had begun to eat again so he no longer looked half starved to death. The skin on Fili’s back had healed as well, but his muscles were still stiff and weak form the long time he had been bound to his bed, unable to use them. 

Kili seemed intent on a specific direction as he was leading Fili through the halls.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” He asked his brother.  
“Yes. We have established what could be called a bathhouse if it was a house instead of a large chamber,” Kili replied. “I’m done with cat licks in bed, and so are you. And your hair is a mess.”  
“I know,” Fili said darkly. He had felt the matted, greasy lump at the back of his head that his hair had become after being tied onto his back for weeks. “But even if I’d lose all of it, it would still be a small price to pay for having survived and still being able to walk.”  
“What makes you think you’d lose your hair?”  
Fili exhaled in a huff. “At least that lump on the back of my head isn’t salvageable.”  
Kili looked at the back of his brother’s head and shrugged.

Once in the bathhouse and undressed Kili told his brother to sit on a footstool so he could wash his hair.

“No way I’m letting you into a tub of water with that mess,” he said after pouring warm water over Fili’s head. “Your hair is so dirty that you could use the water for greasing axles afterwards.”  
Fili chuckled under his breath as Kili began lathering soap into Fili’s hair.

Closing his eyes, Fili felt strangely content. The bathhouse was so pleasantly warmed by screed heating that sitting naked around was comfortable. His brother’s deft fingers worked through his long-neglected hair, a soothing touch to his battered body.

“I’m afraid some of this is coming off by itself,” Kili muttered softly.  
“I didn’t expect otherwise,” Fili gave back, eyes still closed. “Just cut it off and be done with it. It’ll grow back.”  
“You’re making extremely light about losing a solid bunch of hair, brother.” The frown was unmistakable in Kili’s voice.  
“I’m not making light of it,” Fili gave back. “I’ve just had some time to come to terms with it by now, is all.”  
“Let me see what I can save,” Kili replied, sounding strangely anxious. 

Fili let him. He was enjoying the closeness to his brother, enjoying the fact that he was still alive; and if the only loss was a fistful of hair that would re-grow he would not complain, even if it hurt his vanity. Kili began to tug and pick at his hair with a patience that surprised him. And something else surprised him as well:

He and his brother had always been close, had shared a bed until well after they had come of age. They knew exactly what the other looked like without clothes and had never been bashful about it. They had bathed together, in tubs or in rivers, and touches of naked skin had always been a natural part of it. 

But as Kili was standing behind him desperately trying to save what he could of Fili’s hair, Fili found himself enjoying the touch far more than he had expected. And when Kili’s bare chest brushed the still tender new skin on his back, he found himself enjoying that touch far more than he should. Mortified he inconspicuously covered his crotch with his hands, but Kili was far too engrossed in his brother’s hair to notice.

With Fili’s hair made slippery by soap Kili managed to salvage more of it that Fili had expected as he felt the back of his head after Kili declared this was as good as it could get. 

As they proceeded into the tub Fili tried to keep his back to his brother until he could hide his embarrassment under water, but as Kili slipped into the tub opposite of him, it came back with a vengeance.   
It was only when the ripples on the water had smoothed over that Fili could see he was not the only one.

Kili noticed Fili’s stare and grinned. To his mortification, Fili felt his face burn, and that increased Kili’s mirth. 

“Well I guess that means we’re still alive and healthy,” he chuckled. 

Fili could only shake his head, a crooked grin on his face. The grin vanished, however, when Kili, unabashed and completely at ease, closed his fingers around his own erection.

“What? Here??”  
Kili met his brother’s eyes. “What about it?”  
Fili shifted his position. “In the bathtub with your brother?”  
Kili threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich, silky sound that made shivers creep up Fili’s spine.  
“I fail to see why this is a laughing matter,” Fili muttered, but his eyes clung to the hand around his brother’s cock.  
“Because it is,” Kili gave back, rested his head on the edge of the tub and closed his eyes. “It’s not so long ago that I thought I’d die and you were dead already. I’m going to give in to every demand for pleasure my body throws at me for still being alive.” Then he lifted his head again and met Fili’s eyes. “And you should, too.”  
Fili felt his smirk return. “Purely therapeutically, of course,”  
“Or course.” Kili’s eyes were glowing like embers in darkness as he began to lazily stroke his cock. 

Fili closed his eyes and reached for himself, and as he did so, he could hear Kili’s breathing pick up speed. When had that happened? When had things changed between them?

“I don’t know,” Kili whispered huskily, and Fili realised he had said his thoughts out loud. “Maybe when each of us believed we’d lost the other.”

Fili’s body tingled with every move of his hand. “But what about that elf-maid?”

Kili’s hand stopped and his eyes sprang open. Fili stilled his hand, too, and had the feeling he had hurt his brother, or worse.

Very slowly, Kili looked up. “What about her?”  
“You talked about starlight and love,” Fili replied, his voice low and wavering. “I thought...”  
“I thought that, too,” Kili replied, unflinchingly meeting his brother’s gaze. “She was fascinating, she still is, but love...” He sighed. “I wanted someone to love me, Fee. I want someone to love me because the one I love...” he broke off and lowered his eyes.

Fili felt his head spin and was sure it wasn’t from being weak and sitting in hot water. “What about... the one you love?”  
“I’m not sure he loves me the way I want him to.”  
“He?”

Kili looked up, and suddenly looked like the younger brother again desperate for his older brother’s approval and affection. And love.  
Fili cleared his throat. Suddenly all things he had wondered about during the last months made sense. Suddenly, the whole world made more sense. 

“Maybe,” he began, his voice low and a little hoarse, “Maybe he hasn’t quite grasped yet what was missing in his life.”  
Kili’s face was unmoving. “And what would that be?”  
Fili swallowed, hesitated, and then opened his arms. “You.”

For a few heartbeats Kili stared at him, then he unfroze and with a splash and a wave, he fell into Fili’s waiting arms. Chest against chest, crotch against crotch. 

“We’re brothers,” Kili breathed. “I thought this was wrong.”  
“It’s not common,” Fili replied as he ran a hand through his brother’s wet and tousled hair. “But we’ve always been so close. We always had a strong bond, everyone would say that. Would it be so surprising when we add another aspect to it? We both want it, how could it be wrong?”

Kili smiled at that, the incredulous, impish smile his brother loved, and for Fili, it was impossible not to kiss those lips at that moment.

Their hands met as each of them was about to close it around their joined erections, and because they were already conjoined, as close in both body and soul as only brothers and lovers could be, they needed no words. Between their joint hands waited pleasure and relief, and between their lips the sweet certainty that they were alive and with each other.

It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when they began to act openly on their feelings, for everyone knew and had often mentioned as much, that if there ever had been two souls who were meant to be together, then those souls were Fili and Kili.

They were the Princes of Erebor to anyone outside the Mountain, Crown Prince and his consort to everyone within. To their friends, they were the Durin brothers or the Durin boys, depending on the age difference, and to their family sons, nephews, cousins. 

But to each other, they were everything, the one thing that mattered most, the part of their own soul they needed to be complete. To each other, they were only Fili and Kili.


	3. Chapter 3

Thorin frowned at his nephews as the two left the hall after breakfast, giggling and butting heads like boys in adolescence. His sister noticed the look and nudged him in the ribs, smiling at him when he looked up.

“They will grow out of it.”  
“I thought so too, but it has been months,” Thorin replied. “I wish they would remember their ranks. This is no way to act for a crown prince and... his consort.”  
Dís sighed and shook her head. “They are still young...” she began, but Thorin cut her off.  
“Old enough to know better,” he said gruffly. “Mahal knows I’m happy to know they’re alive and well after last autumn, and I said nothing in the beginning because I didn’t begrudge them their happiness about being alive and still together. I know well how close they were to dying and losing each other. But this is below them.”

Dís flicked her head, making her braids swing. “You know their souls belong together, don’t you?”  
“It’s not that,” Thorin gave back, shredding a small piece of bread between his fingers. “And I don’t mind them seeking and finding pleasure in each others’ bodies either. It’s the way they act about it that’s disgraceful.”  
“And that’s why I said they will grow out of it,” Dís replied gently. “Let them get used to it all. For some it will take longer than for others. But you and I both know that the hotter the flame, the sooner it will burn out.”  
“I can see no sign of that,” Thorin replied and picked apart the last crumbs. “But I hope you are right.”

Dís shook her head but chose to let it rest. She smiled at herself as she thought of her sons, so alive and so happy, and even while she knew that sooner or later their interest in playing games of pleasure with each other would fade, she still felt happy for them. They should taste life in all its flavours before settling down for something that suited them. Maybe it was with each other and maybe not, but it was not her decision to make. 

“I am thinking about introducing them to their ranks and dignity with a mission,” Thorin said after a while.  
His sister slowly raised an eyebrow. “What exactly do you have in mind?”  
“Gondor,” Thorin replied, not taking his eyes off his plate. “It is a kingdom to be reckoned with, even without a king. And it is close enough to make a powerful ally. Sending the crown prince as a diplomat seems like a good starting move.”  
Dís leaned forward. “You are sending Fili alone? You are going to part them by force?”

Finally Thorin looked up, his eyes softening. “No,” he said with a small smile. “Of course not. I would not part them by force. I have seen that in Fili’s eyes when I decided to make haste in Laketown and leave Kili behind.”  
“You shouldn’t have, really.”  
Thorin shrugged at his sister’s sharp reply. “Who is to know that,” he said in a low voice. “We barely made it as it is. We would not, had we taken him along. Don’t think I have not thought about it, _nana_. We would have been forced to wait another year, and if that would have been better, who is to know that?”  
Dís inhaled deeply, and mutely shook her head.

“But I saw that they could not be parted by force,” Thorin went on. “Crown prince, future king, nephew, heir; it didn’t matter to him at that moment. All he was, was Kili’s brother.”  
The two of them shared a smile.   
“No, Dís, I will not part them by force. I will not even ask them to consider it. All I want of them, though, is to remember their rank and standing, their dignity and the honour of their people. And I know I can rely on that. But part them.... no. No one and nothing could, and should, part these two for any significant amount of time.”

Dís put her hand on Thorin’s and closed her fingers around it. “They will not disappoint you.”  
“I know they won’t,” he replied, curling his fingers around his sister’s. “And I allow myself the hope that with giving them an important task like this, they will remember they are more than young dwarves with their hearts in their eyes and their feet not touching the ground.”  
Dís laughed. “You said that to me after I met Felin for the first time.”  
Thorin gave her a crooked grin. “Because it was true.”  
Her laughter turned into a wistful smile. “You know I still love him, no matter what.”

Thorin’s smile turned sad as well. “I know, _nana_. I know it well. And they, too, will always love each other, no matter what.”  
“Was I really a giggling nuisance, Thorin?”  
Thorin’s grin returned. “For a time, yes. But you grew out of it, and so I have founded hopes your sons will as well.”  
They shared a chuckle, their fingers still entwined.

* * *

It was the next day that Thorin took his nephews aside to inform them of his plan. He immediately noticed, filled with pride and relief, that they became serious and stopped holding hands when he started explaining what he wanted them to do. No secretive looks and half-hidden smiles. 

“I know I can rely on you,” Thorin said gravely, meeting first Fili’s eyes, then Kili’s. “But let me give you a word of advice. Among Men, bonds of siblings are not as close as they are amongst our people. Or if they are, they have a poor way of showing it. Either way, siblings do not get physical with each other.”

Fili and Kili exchanged a look, but none of their secretive grins. 

“We understand, Thorin,” Fili said earnestly. “We will keep it in mind.”  
Thorin nodded, and then put one hand on Fili’s shoulder, the other on Kili’s. “It is important you remember it. Intimacy between siblings is considered an atrocity, not just an abnormity. They have a word for it that carries only the meaning of a broken law.”

The brothers exchanged another look, this one of concern and resolve both.

“We shall give them no opportunity to think ill of Durin’s people,” Kili said.  
“We shall heed their laws and customs to the best of our abilities,” Fili added. “And we promise to keep away from each other even when no Man is in sight.”

Thorin nodded, and gave his nephews a smile that showed he was glowing with pride.

“Take all the time you need to get ready,” he said then. “It is still early spring, and you do not want to arrive in Minas Tirith caked with mud.”  
“We will talk to Balin about gifts,” Fili said after a moment. “And maybe Bard, too.”  
“A sound idea.” Thorin patted the shoulders under his hands before stepping back. “Do not hesitate to come to me if you have a question.”

Both princes bowed and Thorin gave them a warm and fatherly smile as they left his chambers.

* * *

Kili flopped down on the bed and kicked off his boots. “I honestly believed, for a moment, that he was going to send you without me.”  
“It wouldn’t have happened, _nadadith_ ,” Fili replied as he sat down beside him. “You know that.”  
“I do,” Kili said, his expression and his voice softening. “But I would have hated to confront him about it.”  
“I’d confront Durin’s Bane armed with nothing but a stick if he was about to part us,” Fili said, his voice low and deep, as he leaned over his brother. “With my bare hands if I had to.”

Kili reached out and combed his fingers through the golden strands of hair hanging before his face. “You and me both,” he muttered.  
Fili’s dimpled smile hovered directly above Kili’s lips that crinkled into a smile to match his brother’s. Really?”  
“If you don’t know that by now, you’re an idiot,” Kili said, and Fili chuckled.  
“I like to believe myself smarter than that,” he replied, his breath grazing Kili’s lips. “Do you think I’m a smart dwarf, brother?”  
Kili closed his eyes and tugged at the hair his fingers were buried in. “Almost as smart as me.”

Fili chuckled again, their breath now mingling on their lips that almost touched. He freed his brother’s hand form his hair and pinned both of Kili’s hands under his own beside his brother’s head. The beads in his braided moustache tickled Kili’s cheeks.

“Such a smart little brother I have,” Fili whispered as he moved his lips to Kili’s ear and Kili writhed under him as Fili’s breath grazed the sensitive skin.   
One of the beads touched Kili’s lips. “Smarter than most,” Kili whispered with a tiny smile before he took the bead between his front teeth and tugged.   
Following the tug at his beard with a soft chuckle Fili brushed his brother’s cheek with his lips. “Very smart indeed,” he whispered against Kili’s lips before he claimed them.

With a soft, hardly audible hum Kili opened his lips to the touch of his brother’s tongue. The kiss was both playful and passionate, all hungry lips and dancing tongues and gasping breaths. When Fili leaned back, he looked at his brother, his hands still pinned to each side of his head, his eyes glowing, his cheeks flushed and his lips moist. He rolled on top of him, chest against chest, groin against groin. 

“My lovely little brother,” Fili whispered and kissed Kili’s lips tenderly. “And all mine.”  
“Fili...” It was a whisper so low that Fili more felt than heard it as he gently dug his teeth into the skin of Kili’s neck. “ _Nadad..._ ”  
“What is it,” Fili whispered into Kili’s ear and nipped at the earlobe.  
“I want more,” Kili said, his voice lower, almost a growl now.  
“More of what?” A sweep of a tongue across the edge of the shell of Kili’s ear.  
“Of you!” Kili reared, shaking his brother off his body. 

Fili laughed at that. “Lovely and hungry,” he chuckled breathlessly, but did not hesitate to join Kili who tore at clothes and flung them away in his impatience to get at his brother’s skin.

With the last bits of clothing shed they drank in each other’s sight, hungry eyes roaming each other’s bodies, before Kili grabbed his brother’s shoulders to pull him close for a greedy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Lie down,” Kili gasped as he tore himself away. “Lie down, _nadad_...”  
“You sound as if you have a plan, my smart and hungry little brother,” Fili whispered and laughed under his breath.  
“I want you,” Kili muttered as he adjusted Fili’s body. “As much as you want me.”

This, Fili could and would not deny. Not when Kili did this, this urgent bossing around as if he would starve this instant if he didn’t get what he wanted. Not when he did this, peppering his skin with little kisses from neck across the chest and further down...

“Kili...” he whispered, soft like a kiss, urgent like a prayer. 

Fili felt his brother move and stretch out beside him, but before Fili had even opened his eyes again he felt Kili’s breath on his trembling erection. With a gasping, disbelieving chuckle he turned his head and found himself tip to nose with his. 

“Marvellous,” he whispered, not sure if he meant his brother’s cock or his idea. 

It didn’t matter, because he felt a hand close around him and then Kili’s deft and nimble fingers exposing the last bit of him, felt a cool breath and then hot moistness. Kili hummed urgently around his brother’s cock between his lips as Fili returned the favour; that vibration made Fili grunt and greedily pull Kili’s cock deeper in.

It was giving and receiving, gifting and being gifted, each swipe of a tongue, each kiss and each soft and gentle bite being reciprocated in kind, each trembling moan eliciting the same response, their breath speeding up in unison. 

It was close; they almost came together. Fili broke first; it was when he opened his eyes to watch Kili, eyes closed, utterly lost in what he was doing, and blindly focussed on the warm, hard flesh in his mouth. He had been teetering on the brink, torn between giving in to the sensation and holding back to feel it a little longer, but seeing his brother like this, his body made the decision for him. 

Kili grunted and swallowed, and as he opened his eyes to meet his brother’s, locked in the rigid stare of climax, he lost it as well. He was still swallowing when he came into Fili’s mouth, still swallowing when he felt Fili suck and swallow in return. 

They both tore themselves away from hungry lips as the stimulation became too much, gasping for air, licking their lips, and smiling in utter bliss while catching back their breaths.

When Kili could move again he slowly uncurled and crawled to his brother’s side into Fili’s waiting embrace. They shared a few more kisses, sharing the taste of their own completion, before they touched their foreheads against each other in a silent oath of love and inseparableness.

* * *

They had waited until the snow melts and spring floods had abated and the roads were dry and traversable again before setting out for Gondor. The journey would take them tree weeks on horseback, give or take, and three weeks back, so they would be two months away from the mountain.

They made their good bye on a clear, sunny morning of late spring, promised gifts upon their return, and side by side, rode south with the rising sun casting their shadows to their left as they headed south towards Minas Tirith. 

The journey was uneventful; they had, against Thorin’s counsel, decided to travel alone without a guard of honour and they discovered they had no need for it. They had told Thorin they didn’t want to overwhelm the Steward of Gondor with a gaggle of dwarves invading his palace, but the truth was, they enjoyed being alone on the road with each other far too much to have this experience spoiled by Balin teaching them things they already knew and Dwalin scowling at every shrub as if expecting it to spit out an army of goblins.

They reached Minas Tirith by midmorning on the twentieth day after they had left the Lonely Mountain, and reined their ponies in to stare in astonishment at the white city before them. They had heard tales, but none of these tales did the place any justice. 

In unspoken agreement they dismounted and took care of their attire, dusting off boots and exchanging travelling cloaks for the richly decorated mantles of the royal line. They did each other’s hair, and when they headed for the city gates, Fili and Kili had become Crown Prince and Prince of the Kingdom of Erebor. A golden circlet rested on Fili’s brow and a silver one on Kili’s, and they exchanged a look of admiration for the splendour of each other, a promise of a more satisfying reward once their duty here would be done.

They announced their names, titles and purpose to the guards at the gates who bade them enter; one of them sent a messenger to the palace while another accompanied them through the maze of winding streets. Higher and higher the street wound, and as Kili and Fili looked around they felt a certain respect for these people of Man; the whole city was hewn out of the mountainside and build with the stone carved away to make it. 

It was the Stewart's son who introduced himself as Ecthelion II who welcomed them into the palace.

“We are more than honoured,” he said as he bowed. “When we received notice of a visit from Erebor, we did not expect the crown prince and his brother.”  
“You didn’t?” Kili asked.   
Ecthelion’s smile was a little strained. “I am afraid, and deeply regret, that it was a misunderstanding. We were informed by the king that he would send his esteemed nephews. We assumed he had heirs of his own and had not realised his nephews were his actual heirs. Had we known, your reception would have been more befitting.”

Fili inclined his head. “Misunderstandings are prone to happen between different people,” he said diplomatically. “As long as we can forgive each other our mistakes that are made without thoughts of evil, I see no hindrance in having an alliance between our two kingdoms.”

Ecthelion bowed deeply and bade them follow him to introduce them to his father the Steward of Gondor, Turgon, son of Turin. 

In acknowledgement of the Steward’s role as proxy for a King whose throne stood empty they bowed before that empty throne before doing the same for the Steward.  
Turgon greeted them warmly, bidding them welcome in the name of the people and the throne of Gondor, and expressed his hopes for a fruitful and blessed relationship between two mighty kingdoms.


	4. Chapter 4

Treated as honoured guests, the princes stayed for three days in the palace of Minas Tirith. Turgon had been very accommodating, a kind but shrewd man and a hard but fair negotiator who kept the best interests of his kingdom in mind without demeaning the interests of Erebor in the process. His son was at his side all the time, attending his father much like Fili had attended Thorin.   
Turgon was no young man anymore, and he was clearly preparing his son Ecthelion for the day the chair of the steward beside the empty throne would be his.

As this was the first contact between the two kingdoms there would be no contracts and no treaties, but steward and crown prince parted with a promise of friendship. 

The steward also offered the Durin brothers accommodation in the palace for a few days more to explore his magnificent city, an offer the two princes gladly accepted. 

Since dwarves were not a common sight in Minas Tririth the two of them had to deal with a lot of stares and whispers, but they shrugged this off with the solid self-esteem of a prince of Durin’s blood. 

They spent their last day in Minas Tirith browsing the enormous bazaar; hundreds of vendors in booths and tents and back tables and baskets or just selling their wares from hawker’s trays. Herbs and spices the brothers had never heard the names of, fabrics in all colours and materials, products of all crafts from blacksmithing to lace-weaving, and in between all those goods sold and bought was a bluster and a collection of smells that almost blunted the senses.

Within the shoving, pushing masses of people almost twice their height, Fili and Kili had lost each other in the crowd after half an hour. Neither of them worried about it as they could always find their way back to the palace where sooner or later the other would also show up.

Thinking of buying his mother a nice bit of exotic jewellery Fili browsed the wares of several vendors until one table caught his eye with the glint of gold. The next thing that caught his eye was the vendor himself, a man with skin as dark as the wood of a walnut tree. The vendor looked equally surprised; most likely because he had never seen a dwarf before. Fili gave him a good-natured smirk and bowed.

The dark-skinned man grinned, displaying two rows of impressively white teeth, and gestured at his wares. Fili nodded and let his eyes roam over various necklaces like he had never seen before. The overall theme was flat, polished round discs and fine netting of gold. There wasn’t much in terms of stones or jewels, but the craftsmanship with which these discs had been shaped and woven together was undeniable. After some serious haggling, Fili bought a necklace and a pair of matching bracelets.

After having stowed his purchase safely away Fili continued to saunter past various stalls, politely refusing samples of beverages that made his sense of smell hide in his sinuses. Still, Fili was in a good mood. The negotiations were over, the steward was pleased, and Thorin would be pleased, as well. And come morning, they would leave Minas Tirith, accompanied by a guard of honour that Turgon had insisted on sending with them to the borders of Gondor.

And once they had left the borders of Gondor behind, he and his brother had some serious catching up to do. Fili felt himself glow in anticipation. He hadn’t believed it would be so hard on him to keep his hands off Kili, and in Kili’s eyes he had seen that the other felt the same. Kili had never been as good as his brother at hiding his feelings, and Fili had occasionally been unable to resist the urge to tease him the tiniest bit for it during the last few days.

But he had also made himself and his brother the promise that as soon as the guards of Gondor had left them, they would strike camp at the next suitable spot and make up for the time they had lost. He was just beginning to entertain the thought of buying Kili a gift as well when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Hey! Little man!”

Fili froze, his smirk vanished, and with an inward sigh, he very slowly turned around. The man who had addressed him had dark skin as well, but his accent was far more pronounced that that of the jeweller had been. He was tall and muscled, carrying a sword that was sheathed but had a well-worn hilt.  
Fili crossed his arms and raised his eyes. 

“I am not a little man, I am a dwarf. What is it?”  
“My name Kobe,” the dark-skinned man said with a bow of his head. “My mistress asks you come speak with her?”  
“And who is your mistress?”  
Another bow. “She be Malika Waseme. You come speak, yes no?”  
Fili cocked one eyebrow, but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded. “Lead the way.”

Kobe bowed a third time and turned around. Fili followed the tall warrior down the lane he had come, but shortly before they would have reached the jeweller they turned into a smaller side alley. At the end of that alley Kobe opened a gate of wrought iron and nodded. 

“Up stairs,” he said. “Follow.”

Fili did so, taking in his surroundings. The houses were indistinguishable from the rest of Minas Tirith, packed close to each other and on top of each other like the rest of the city, reminding Fili yet again of a heap of bricks. He followed Kobe through the gate and up a flight of stairs. 

A heavy smell of incense met him once they had reached the first storey. Kobe walked down a hallway and stopped at the last door.

“You knock,” he told Fili. “Malika Wasame waiting here.”  
Fili inclined his head. “And what exactly does she want of me?”  
“She want talk,” Kobe gave back, looking a little lost; he simply didn’t seem to know more.  
“Right.” Fili nodded again and knocked.

The door was opened by a small, lithe woman hardly more than a child, but as soon as Fili had entered, she vanished and closed the door, leaving Fili alone in a room with more incense than air and no window to remedy that. One single, large lampion shed a reddish light, revealing no furniture whatsoever apart from a few large pillows on the ground. A curtain at the wall opposite the door stirred.

“Ah!” A woman’s voice, very deep and very rich, her accent less pronounced but unmistakable. “The little man of gold.”  
“I am no man,” Fili said, crossing his arms again.  
“Are you not?” A chuckle, deep and silky, but something about the voice did not let Fili relax.  
“No, I am a dwarf.”

The curtain parted and revealed a woman who stepped slowly into the light. “I have never heard of that before.”  
Fili forced himself to meet her eyes. “We are people who live in the mountains in the north.”

He began to curse himself. There seemed to be no mistaking what the woman meant to talk about, the way she was dressed. Or not dressed, rather. Two pieces of cloth, girded around her hips with a band of gold, hung down front and back, but the material was so thin and translucent that hardly anything was left to the imagination. Her torso was bare, the dark skin shining as if it was freshly oiled, and her breasts were hidden behind an enormous necklace of golden discs and nothing else. Her hair was braided into countless small braids that each ended in a golden bead, and gold bands adorned her wrists and ankles.

“Sit,” she said gently, pointing at one of the pillows. “Be my guest.”  
Fili sat, and averted his eyes when the woman lowered herself gracefully onto the pillow opposite him.   
“Will you honour me with your name?”  
Fili met her eyes again, black as coal in the dim light of the windowless room. It was impossible to read them. “Fili,” he said. “And you are...”  
“Wasame,” she replied. “Honoured second wife of Nayo Zawadasi.”  
Grateful for Thorin’s drill, Fili managed to keep his face blank at the mentioning of second wife. 

The door opened again and the young girl who had vanished as Fili had arrived now came back with a tray that she positioned between Fili and his host. She vanished as silently as she had come.  
Wasame took one of the golden goblets and filled it with wine from the golden pitcher. She offered it to Fili with a smile.

“I am honoured you decided to be my guest,” Wasame said and lifted her goblet. “When I heard the descriptions I could not imagine they were true.”  
“What descriptions?” Fili brought the goblet to his lips and found the wine, if it was indeed that, far too sweet and heavy for his tastes. He sipped sparingly.  
“Someone with hair of gold,” Wasame said with a laugh that made her braids dance.   
Fili grinned despite himself. 

“Tell me, honoured guest Fili,” Wasame said. “Where you come from, do all look like you?”  
Fili adjusted his position on the pillow. “We all are much smaller than men, but apart from that, we all look different.”  
“And the golden hair?”  
Fili chuckled and put his goblet down. “It’s not as common as black or brown, or even red, but it’s not a rarity.”

Wasame leaned forward, smiling at him under lowered eyelids. “But you are a rarity, my honoured guest Fili. Never have I seen a man that small...”  
“I am no man,” Fili interrupted her, his honour stung.  
“Forgiveness,” Wasame lowered her head. “I meant no offence. I said man and meant male.”  
Fili leaned back with a nod, pacified.  
“Never have I seen a male that small, and with that colouring. Pale skin and golden hair, and blue eyes.” She met his eyes again, the smile widening. “And so much hair on your face, too! The ladies of yours, do they like it?” She leaned forward again with her head cocked, and the golden discs of her necklace seemed to be doing their best in trying to catch his eyes. 

“Dwarf ladies actually prefer more mature and more outgrown beards,” Fili gave back. “I am quite young, and I am still waiting for the full growth.”  
Wasame’s pealing laughter made the gold discs dance. “Can you even see their faces?”  
Despite himself, Fili had to grin. “Nose and eyes.”

Her laughter ebbing off into a chuckle, Wasame leaned forward and reached for his face. “May I touch?”  
“No.” Fili leaned back. “No, sorry. That is private.”  
Her eyes glinted. “But you carry it on your face for everyone to see.”  
“Yes, but not for everyone to touch.”

“Who may touch you, then, my golden dwarf?”  
Fili’s fingers twitched. “The one I love.”  
“Oh, so romantic.” Wasame laughed again, and with the grace and speed of a cat, was suddenly on all fours and at his side. “Can I be the one you love?”  
“No.” Fili leaned back even more.   
“Why not?” It was all but a purr. “Am I not beautiful?”

Fili knew himself to be trapped. He was in a room with someone’s wife who was making indecent advances on him, and no matter what he did, he would be in trouble. If he said no, she would get angry and there was a chance she would cry insult. Or tell that bull of a warrior who had brought him here to have a go at him, which would be the easier way out, all things considered. 

“You are,” he said cautiously. “But you are also married, if I remember correctly.”  
She pouted. “I am alone,” she said slowly. “I am second wife only, and rarely he comes to me. He will never know you were here. Come, I promise you an hour of pleasure like you never had before.”  
“I can’t.” Fili shuffled back. “I won’t. It’s a crime.”

Wasame narrowed her eyes. “No one will know.”  
“It still...”  
“My golden dwarf,” she said and moved closer. She smelled of musk and sandalwood and roses. “Look at us.” She placed her hand on his, the contrast of colours striking even in the dim light. “Gold and ebony. Riches beyond compare.”  
Fili swallowed and shook his head. “I think it will be best if I go now.”

“You refuse me?” She looked hurt. “You refuse me? Am I that unappealing to your eyes?”  
Fili felt his stomach knot. “No. You are beautiful, but you are married. And I am promised... I would not want to lie with you were you not married. I will neither give my heart nor my body to you, for both are promised to someone already.”

Her facial expression froze, then changed from disbelief to anger. “No one will know!”  
“I will know!” Fili hastily got up and took a step back. “I will not betray my love and you should not betray the one you are married to!”  
“Do not tell me what I should or not!” Wasame was on her feet and bared her teeth at him. “How dare you!”  
“I am sorry, my lady.” Fili bowed deeply and met her eyes after straightening up. “I will go now. I am sorry I wasted your time.”  
“You will go nowhere,” Wasame growled and pushed him back against the wall. “You will...”

Finding himself pinned between a wall and a scantily dressed woman who was all but pushing her bare breasts into his face, Fili had to force down a gust of panic. He was raised to respect and honour women and every fibre of his being screamed at him when he moved, but he had to get out of that room, and quick. He head butted her sternum and she staggered back with a muffled grunt.

Fili spun around on his heel and tore the door open, finding to his utter relief the corridor empty.

“Curse you!”

Fili spun around again, but she hadn’t followed him, and now he could see why: She was shackled. The thin band of gold around her right ankle held a delicate chain of gold, hardly noticeable but strong enough to hold her back now. His head began to spin and he stumbled backward.

“Curse you!” Wasame hissed, her face a mask of fury. “Curse you and your lover both!”

Until now, Fili had been able to keep his wits together, but now he felt his anger begin to boil. How dare she bring his beloved brother into this?

“Keep my love out of this, you viper!”  
Wasame laughed. “Curse you both!” 

Fili decided he was done with her and turned to head for the stairs. He heard her snarl a few more words at him as he took two steps with one stride and he didn’t understand anymore what she was saying. Shaking his head at her fury, and still feeling strangely sorry for her for being chained like that, he found a doorway leading out, and took a few deep breaths of relief when he had passed the wrought iron gate.

His head cleared of the incense as he walked swiftly down the alley. But the clearer his head became, the more his memories blurred. It felt almost like he had only dreamt of the whole incident, but he could clearly remember the woman, and her look of betrayal and hate.

* * *

“You will regret refusing me,” Wasame snarled as she lowered herself on a pillow. “Curse you and your love, my golden dwarf. Curse you by dawn and dusk. Curse you with every turn of the sun.” Her next words were uttered in the language of her homeland, but no one was around to hear them. Then she pulled a long, golden needle out of her hair and pricked the skin in her hand, then licked up the blood with the tip of her tongue. 

She smiled, but it was the smile of a spider gently wrapping a butterfly in deadly white silk.


	5. Chapter 5

Kili and Fili set out the next morning shortly after sunrise; as promised, they were accompanied by a guard of honour. To their surprise if was Ecthelion himself who was leading them, and after the last pleasantries had been exchanged, they left Minas Tirith behind with the rising sun to their right.

Around midmorning the weather changed, however. The sun vanished behind heavy grey clouds, and not a few of the small group of travellers looked upward with an unhappy frown. The wind picked up speed as well, and after a hurried lunch and making an early camp, they took refuge in a small copse of trees. It was shortly before sundown that the rain started, and within an hour it had grown into a downpour. The wind was howling and whipping the rain into every crevice, and they spent a cold and uncomfortably wet night huddled under the trees.

The storm abated at night, but the rain lasted. It accompanied them, alternating between a mild drizzle and a proper drenching, when they passed Cair Andros, it kept following them past the Nindalf and as they rounded the hills of Emyn Muil where the Durin brothers finally bade their guard of honour farewell. 

Still accompanied by the constant drizzle Fili and Kili made their way north across the Brown Lands, heading for the edge of Mirkwood. Moods and spirits low from the constant rain they hardly spoke, and if so, it would always end in one of them snapping at the other, followed by disgruntled apologies. 

They laid their eyes on the outer reaches of Mirkwood almost three weeks after they had left Minas Tirith, and in all that time they had not once made a proper camp with a fire because of the thrice-cursed rain. Even the ponies, of the sturdy dwarfish mountain breed, were walking listlessly with hanging heads. 

Having reached the southern border of Mirkwood they used all the daylight they could before endangering their mounts, and camped for the night in open terrain as there was no shelter available, sat down on wet leather, on wet muddy ground. The bread had gone mouldy in all the damp which meant they had to go hungry until they could find game and it was actually dry enough to prepare the meat. 

They had barely shared two dozen words since they had bade their guards farewell, having spent the days in wet and miserable silence. This evening was no exception. 

It seemed like a miracle when shortly after sunrise, the thick mass of clouds suddenly burst before them, letting a thick shaft of sunlight fall onto the ground. It looked for all that’s worth like a finger of fate pointing at the greatest treasure on earth. And for the first time since they had left the White City, Fili and Kili exchanged a smile.

By noon the rain had stopped, and with afternoon, the clouds had dispersed enough that the sun could finally begin to dry the land around them. The night was damp, but at least the constant hammering of raindrops on their oiled leather hoods had stopped. 

Shortly after noon the next day they had finally reached the East Bight, the large clearing that looked like something had bitten a large chunk out of the Mirkwood itself. They had made camp here on their way south, and after having found their camp spot from weeks ago; an ancient oak so big that its hollow trunk could comfortably accommodate two dwarfs, assuming they didn’t mind sleeping really close, they could finally build a fire.

The ponies were visibly as happy and relieved as their riders to finally be rid of the rain, and they rolled around in the dry grass, kicking their hooves in a fashion that made Kili laugh as he tried to get the fire going.

“Silly beasts!”  
“Can’t blame them, really.” Fili sat down next to him after he had set up a few snares. “I feel like rolling and hopping around too, what with the rain finally gone.”  
“Roll around?” Kili grinned. “Hop around?”  
“Well, maybe not hop,” Fili admitted, and winked at his brother in a way that made a spot of warmth appear in Kili’s belly. “But the rolling around I wouldn’t mind.”  
Kili lifted both eyebrows.  
“Assuming I wouldn’t have to do it alone.”  
This time, Kili laughed. “Let me at least get the fire going, brother of mine,” he chuckled.

Fili got up again and stretched, and after a look at the sun and the sky, almost cloudless now, he proceeded to peel the still damp clothes off his body and spread them out to dry.

By the time he was done, Kili had managed to get the fire going, but the small campfire wasn’t the only thing burning by that time. He caught himself devouring Fili’s body with his eyes.   
Fili caught him stare, and with that incredibly annoying and arousing smirk of his, sauntered over, braids and arms swinging freely, to crouch down before his brother.

“Like what you see?”  
Kili lifted his eyebrows. “See?” He looked around. “What’s there to see?”  
Fili leaned on one hand, brushing a few hairs from his face with the other. “Over here.”  
Kili leaned forward as well. “Where?”  
“Here,” Fili whispered, looking at his brother under lowered eyelids. “Closer.”

Kili obeyed, a smile on his face in response to his brother’s smirk, and Fili’s hand buried itself into his hair. Hot breath grazed his lips, and Kili closed his eyes. Fili’s other hand closed around his shoulder...  
...and bowled him over onto his back.

“Hey!” Kili tried to protest and get up again, but with one swift move, Fili had straddled him and pinned him down. Kili stopped struggling as he caught sight of his brother.

Fili was perched on his chest, and while Kili was still fully clothed, Fili was completely naked. His eyes were burning patches of fire into Kili’s soul, made worse by that smirk under his braided moustache. His chest was heaving, golden curls glinting in the sunlight and below...

With a small gasp Kili lifted his head to gaze at his brother’s trembling cock almost directly under his nose. Straining his neck, he could just about peck a kiss onto it.   
Fili let go of his hands with a strained gasp.

Their eyes met in a hungry stare, and Fili rested forward onto his knees, shuffled forward, and Kili eagerly opened his mouth to take him.   
Fili threw his head back and arched backward with a sound that vibrated in Kili’s groin. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds his brother made, sounds that were only for him. 

Fili was whispering his name now, over and over again, sending shivers creeping down Kili’s spine. In a voice that was ragged with lust Fili told him how incredible he was, how good he felt, how much he loved him, and Kili listened to the beloved voice coming so undone because of him and took Fili in as deeply as he could with a low hum of pleasure. Fili bucked into him with a bellow, and moments later Kili’s mouth filled with the taste of Fili’s completion. He kept swallowing until Fili let himself fall back with a shudder.

It took one look at his brother, lying in the grass in boneless, sated bliss, and Kili began to hastily unbuckle his belt and tear off his tunic and shirt.

Fili slowly sat up upon hearing his brother’s urgent, angry sounds and smiled. “In a hurry?” He asked huskily. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”  
Kili looked up and dropped his shirt. “I know. But yes. I’m in...” He pounced on his brother, knocked him on his back but rolled on his own back in one move, dragging Fili with him. “In a hurry,” He finished when Fili was atop of him again, bare chest against bare chest.

Fili chuckled softly. “I love you when you are so needy.”  
“Only then?” Kili asked with a pout.   
This time, Fili laughed. “Always, _nadadith_ , and you know that. But like this, I love you exceptionally.”  
Kili chuckled. “Really?”  
“Need proof?”  
Kili fluttered his eyelashes at him. “Need... maybe not need it. But it would be nice.”  
Fili chuckled again and leaned closer. “I love you, _nadadith_. _Givashel..._ ”

Kili closed his eyes as Fili claimed his lips. Soft skin and scratchy beard, a playful nip with his teeth, and gentle prod with his tongue. Kili opened his lips and lost himself. It had been too long. Far too long. 

Fili broke the kiss and leaned back with a gasp.

“How I survived that, I couldn’t say...” Kili chuckled. “It’s like...” He opened his eyes and all warmth vanished. “Fili?”

Fili stared down at his brother with eyes so wide they were almost entirely white.   
“Fili?” An icy hand gripped Kili’s stomach as he sat up. Fili cowered, still staring at him, and a strained, whistling wheeze escaped him.  
“Fili!”  
“Kili...” It was hardly audible, and it didn’t sound like his brother. Kili reached out and froze, his fear turning into pure, unadulterated horror.

Fili was enveloped in a faint aura of golden light. 

“Fili...” A toneless whisper, his throat to dry to speak.

And Fili was gone. Kili lost his balance and fell onto his knees, unable to grasp what was happening. Fili was...

A harsh, piercing shriek tore through the silence, and right there, where moments before his brother had been, a large hawk spread his wings and took to the sky.

Frozen to the spot, Kili stared after the bird. “Fili?” The hoarse, terrified whisper was hardly recognisable as a word. “Fili...?”

Fili was gone.

Ice-cold with terror and close to panic, Kili looked around. There were Fili’s clothes, spread out to dry. There was the grass, still showing the indention where Fili had been sitting moments ago. His lips were still moist from their kiss...

Above, the hawk shrieked.

And Kili stared upward into the cloudless sky where the hawk circled above him. Very slowly, he brought one hand to his face and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. 

It wasn’t until he recognized the strange metallic taste in his mouth as blood that he realised he had been digging his teeth into his own flesh. He lowered his hand, looked at the bloody crescents his teeth had left, and wondered why he didn’t feel any pain. 

“Fili...” He took a deep breath and looked up again. 

The hawk was still there, at the edge of the clearing. Sitting on a branch and staring down at Kili. Very slowly, he got to his feet.

“Fili?”  
The hawk ruffled his wings.  
“Fili?” 

Kili lifted his left arm, reached out for the hawk, offering his forearm. The hawk lifted himself off the branch with a beat of his wings and rose. But before Kili could even think, he came back, lowered himself onto Kili’s forearm and closed his talons around it.

Kili didn’t feel the sharp talons digging into his skin and kept looking at the hawk balancing on his bleeding forearm. “Fili?”

If that word had any meaning to the bird, he didn’t show it. 

Kili felt strangely cold. Completely numb. The utter panic from moments before had given way to utter emptiness. 

“What am I supposed to do now...” he whispered, but if he was talking to the hawk or himself, he didn’t know. “What is happening? Fili, how could this happen?”

The hawk ruffled his feathers and shrieked. Kili didn’t think; with a move he had seen when watching falconers he pushed his arm upwards and the hawk was airborne with another shriek. Kili stared after him with a pale face. But the hawk didn’t fly away; he kept circling above the clearing. Kili watched him for a while before he stumbled back towards the fire.

His hunger forgotten, and numb to the cold, he sat down cross-legged at the fire and stared into the flames. His mind kept on reliving the moments over and over again. The kiss, the gasp, the golden light, and the look of utter, soul-crushing horror in his brother’s eyes.

“Fili...” 

The hawk shrieked, and Kili dropped his head. The tears came unbidden and unwelcome, and they didn’t stop until Kili was so hoarse his throat hurt with every breath he took.

“Let me wake up from this nightmare,” he muttered hoarsely. “Mahal have mercy and let this nightmare end!”

But he did not wake up. He was trapped in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from... because he wasn't asleep.

When he finally became aware of his surroundings again the sun was almost touching the horizon. He heard the hawk shriek and looked up to see the bird slowly spiral downwards. Kili watched the bird swoop down, spread his wings and land, ending his momentum with a few less gracefully looking hops. He folded his wings and looked at Kili. 

Kili slowly got up, the sinking sun warming his back. “Fili?”  
The bird spread his wings and shook his head. 

How much of this bird was Fili? How aware was he of the fact that he, Kili, was his brother and lover? Had been... until only hours ago. Until he had been turned into a bird by a magic Kili had no means to understand.

The hawk did not seem afraid of Kili, he had landed on his arm, after all. But there was no telling for Kili how much his brother was aware of his change and of his new body.

“Fili,” he said cautiously. “Brother? Do you... do you understand me?”  
The hawk cocked his head.   
“Does that mean yes?” Kili wiped his hand across his nose. “Is that still you in that body?”

After spreading his wings, the hawk busied himself with straightening a few feathers while keeping his eyes on Kili.

“Please, Fili...” Kili whispered. “Can you let me know? Can you show me? Please let me know if that is still you! Please, brother, don't leave me just like this...”

Unimpressed by Kili's plea, the hawk proceeded to sort his feathers.

“Mahal what has he done? What have you done to him?” Kili dug both his hands into his hair, fruitlessly fighting his tears again. “What did he do to deserve this? Give me my brother back!” He threw his head back and screamed, his voice carrying all the despair, the horror, the fear, the helplessness, the desolation he felt. “Mahal give me my brother back! I give you anything, anything! I give you my life, my soul!” His voice was torn asunder by ravaging sobs. “Take my right arm or both if you want! I give you anything! The light of my eyes if I have to! My hair my balls, anything! Just give me my brother back!!”

There was answer to his plea. There was no one to share his dreadful load, there was no one but him and his brother who was no longer aware of Kili as his brother and his lover. 

Kili took another step forward and froze.

The golden light was back. 

Shaking as if ravaged by fever Kili watched the hawk being enveloped in the faint golden sheen and in a strange blur of movement and golden light, the bird unfurled and Fili got onto his feet, a look of horrified bewilderment on his face. 

Kili dared not to breathe.

“Kili?”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Kili's lips. No matter what, his brother was back, and Mahal, if he had indeed anything to do with this, could take anything from him he wanted. He had meant it, and whatever Mahal decided to take from him, he would give it gladly.

But the moment he meant to answer him, Kili suddenly felt something tear at the very core of his soul. It paralyzed him and seemed to force all breath out of him.

“Fi...” He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t’ breathe...

Fili looked up, and his eyes widened even more. “Kili...” It was a whisper, dead and lifeless from the horror in his voice. Kili felt the ground rush up to meet him as the world lost all colour. Then he was gone.

“Kili...”

Fili was trembling like a leaf in the wind. He had lost consciousness, that much was clear, he had kissed his brother and suddenly had been unable to breathe. He had been unconscious, been haunted by the strangest dreams.

And now he had woken up to see his brother collapse...

...enveloped in a golden light. 

He staggered back. “Kili?”

The light vanished and left only darkness. Blackness. Midnight black fur ruffled by the wind.

The wolf got onto his feet and shook his head, and amber eyes looked up, into Fili’s. A wolf, and Fili was naked and his weapons in the hollow oak, behind the wolf.

But the wolf just looked at him.

“Kili?”

Fili slowly toppled to his knees. Had he been unconscious at all? He had dreamt of flying, of wind under his wings...  
And now he looked at his brother, at the wolf his brother had turned into... his mind refused to connect this wolf with his brother and the golden light, but he had seen it with his own eyes...

“Kili... brother...”  
The wolf cocked his head and trotted towards him.  
“Kili? Is that you?”

But there was no recognition in those amber eyes. No awareness. Just a wolf. But a wolf to whom Fili, naked and unarmed, was no prey. The wolf extended his nose and sniffed him. 

“Kili?” 

No, that wasn’t Kili. Not really. But there seemed to be something of Kili in this wolf, something that stopped him from attacking. 

Fili slowly got up and staggered towards the fire. With numb and trembling fingers he picked up his clothes and dressed himself again, then put more wood onto the fire.  
Through all this, the black wolf watched him with mild interest.

Fili ran a hand through his hair and discovered that all his braids were gone. His moustache braids were unravelled as well, and feeling worried about the whereabouts of his beads and scolding himself for worrying about such a trivia at the same time, he walked over to the place where he remembered falling.

It was here he had kissed his brother. And there where his beads, all of them, as if dropped from a careless hand. He gathered them with trembling fingers.

His night was long and cold, and very lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this story was inspired by the movie _Ladyhawke_ (1985). Didn't mention that before because, well, spoiler.


	6. Chapter 6

Kili came to with a shiver of cold. The grass was wet with morning dew under him and the air was cold, just being touched by the rays of the rising sun. He was freezing. He was also naked. Blearily he crept towards the fire that still burned, and discovered his clothes there beside it, folded into a neat stack. He smiled at the thought of Fili...

”Fili!”

The memories from the day before hit him like a fist in the abdomen. The kiss, the hawk...  
Fili coming back only to see him pass out...

Kili looked nervously around as he struggled into his pants. Where was Fili now? 

“Fili?”

No reply, and Kili pulled his shirt on, the socks and boots. When he got up again, there was still no sight of his brother.

“Fili?”

It was then that he heard it again, the piercing shriek of the hawk. Kili slowly looked up to see the bird circle high above. His eyes began to burn. 

“This can’t be happening,” he whispered in a trembling voice. “How can this be happening?”

He unsteadily walked back to the fire, and this time he noticed the other neatly folded set of clothes. His brother’s clothes. Kili shuddered and stared into the flames. 

“You’ve turned back into a bird,” he whispered. “My brother has turned into a bird of prey with sunrise.” He looked up again, remembering how he had passed out. Had he been a bird as well last night?

He got up again and searched the clearing, and to his utter horror, found the tracks of a wolf.

“A wolf...” He knelt down and examined the tracks. Paw prints, coming from here... to there... only on the clearing. No tracks leading in or out of the forest, as if the wolf had...  
...simply materialized.

Kili felt his stomach drop. “Mahal save us... Mahal have mercy, what is happening to us?”

He walked in circles around the clearing, in vain hopes of finding wolf tracks after all, but to no avail. He had passed out last night and turned into a wolf, but even if all evidence was there before his eyes, he still refused to believe it. What foul magic had caused this?

Kili stopped in his tracks, and very slowly, his eyes wandered towards the trees. The edge of Mirkwood.

Not bothering with breakfast, Kili quickly gathered their belongings, packed his brother things as well as his own, and put the fire out. Then he mounted, took the reins of his brother’s pony and headed north, following the edge of the forest. And despite his hopes being feeble at best, the hawk followed him.

* * *

This time Kili felt it, the tightening in his chest, the sudden pressure and the tearing at his soul that announced a blackout, and quickly dismounted. He was already tearing off his clothes when he heard the rush of wings behind him and spun around to see the hawk sit on the grass with wings spread. He saw the glow surrounding the hawk, and he could feel it now, see it even as he looked at his hand.

It happened simultaneously; Kili felt the ground rush up to meet him as he collapsed, and with the last of his waning consciousness, he saw Fili slowly rise, eyes wide in concern.

Fili slowly brought his senses under control again as he stood up, and could only watch helplessly as the faint glow covered his brother , leaving only black fur as it vanished again. Again, he remembered nothing, only a faint memory of flying and the ground far below, and he realised as he looked around that they were no longer at the East Bight. 

_Kili must have decided to travel on_ , he thought, and went to his pony to find his clothes stowed into the saddle bags. But where to?

Home, to Erebor? It would break their mother’s heart, but what else could they do? It would hurt her more if they just vanished without a trace in search of... of what?  
A cure to this curse? Was it even a curse? 

Buckling his belt Fili looked thoughtfully at the edge of Mirkwood. Had they camped too close to the trees?

But then he shook his head. The company had travelled through Mirkwood for days, and Bombur had even fallen into the black waters of the stagnant river, and nothing even remotely like this had happened. It would be too easy an explanation, to blame the elves of Mirkwood, and Fili somehow felt that whatever he might feel about the sylvan elves and their king, this was not their doing.

His pony nickered nervously and tossed her head. The other pony pranced and both of them snorted. With a sigh, Fili turned around and found the wolf sitting on his haunches, tongue lolling.

“Come with me?” Fili asked. 

He mounted, and the wolf got up, stretched his hind legs, and trotted off. As if he knew that the ponies, while nervous, could stand his presence as long as he was in plain sight before them. They would have panicked had he appeared from behind.

Leading Kili’s pony by the reins, Fili followed the wolf north, keeping close to the forest, and wondered how he could possibly break this to their mother. Her sons had fallen victim to some very foul and evil magic, and Fili could not think of anything they had done that could have caused this. He rode for a few hours more before the ponies got too tired, and then he made camp, lighting a fire and trying to find something to eat other than mouldy bread.

He found nothing, and with a shake of his head, he settled down cross-legged at the fire and threw a blanket around his shoulder.

The fire crackled and the wind rustled the leaves. One of the ponies neighed, and pranced nervously. As Fili looked up he could see the wolf trot towards him, and the ponies calmed down the tiniest bit when he didn’t grace them with a look. 

The wolf was licking his snout, and Fili could only assume that he, at least, had eaten something tonight. He shuddered to think of his brother eating a raw kill with entrails and bones and everything, but this was not really his brother. He might as well wonder how he... the bird... kept himself fed, a likewise unpleasant thought.

The wolf now settled down comfortably beside Fili, sniffed at his hand, and rested his head on his paws. 

“Seems like you take me for a member of your pack, hm?”  
The wolf flicked an ear.  
“It could be worse. I’d rather be your pack mate than your dinner.” Fili cautiously reached out and touched the fur between the ears and he wolf flicked his ears again, but didn’t pull back.

It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. He ran his fingers through the thick and rich black fur and tried not to think of his brother’s untameable hair. But at least he had this tiny comfort. His brother had no such luck. Why couldn’t he have been a wolf as well? Kili would even feel more alone than he with the bird flying above him, far out of reach. 

But as agitated and troubled as Fili was, he was also achingly tired. So he curled himself together under the blanket and discovered to his pleasant surprise that the wolf didn’t mind him using his fur as a pillow. 

But even lying as close as they did when the morning sun sent the first rays of light over the horizon, as soon as the golden glow enveloped them, they couldn’t move anymore. For an agonizing split second their eyes met, and then the wolf was gone and the hawk was back, taking to the air with a mournful shriek.

His hands curled into fists, Kili watched the hawk until his vision blurred. With an angry grunt he wiped his eyes, but his tears stubbornly refused to stop Kili found his clothes and dressed himself, wondering why he wasn’t hungry and then, remembering he had been a wolf last night, decided he’d rather not know the answer. 

With the sinking sun hanging low in the sky Kili reached the River Running; two more days of travelling and they would be home. He dismounted and with a heavy sigh, feeling every fibre of his body refuse to obey, began to undress. He felt the tightening, and knew he was helpless and could only give in.   
He briefly wondered if he could really get used to this, and how long it would take, but already the horror of it had lessened, leaving a heavy, bone-deep weariness and gnawing worry laced only with a remnant of fear. 

His world went grey and vanished, and his dreams were full of striding through the moonlit night, and the slick, hot and satisfying taste of metal on his tongue.

* * *

The gates of Erebor came into view one late afternoon, with the sun already on her way to the horizon. Kili passed Dale, bustling with people rebuilding what they could, and tearing down what couldn’t be repaired to make something new from the materials that could be salvaged. 

Dwalin was standing on the ramparts and was the first to notice the approaching rider, but when he saw who it was coming up to the gates leading one empty pony, his heart dropped and he closed his eyes for a second sending a prayer to Mahal begging for mercy and to spare them this.  
He swiftly hurried down the stairs to find Thorin and his sister.

Kili had just about reached the gates and was dismounting when he heard his mother’s voice. Bracing himself and swallowing hard, he straightened up, squared his shoulders and met her eyes as she hurried towards him.

“Kili!” She was breathless, must have been running through half of Erebor to get here this fast. “Kili!”  
“ _Amad_...” Kili managed.  
His mother stopped dead. “Kili, where is your brother?”  
Kili swallowed. “He is...”  
“Kili, where is your brother? Where is Fili?” Dís’s voice was uncharacteristically shrill and close to breaking.

“He is...”  
“Kili!” Dís grabbed his shirt and tears were streaming down her face. “Kili, what happened?”  
Kili swallowed again, his throat was almost too dry to speak. “I don’t know, _Amad_.”  
His mother staggered back, eyes impossibly wide. 

“What do you mean?” Thorin had finally caught up with his sister and now took one arm to steady her. He could hardly remember when the last time was he had been forced to do so. On his brother-in-law’s funeral, no less. “What do you mean,” he said again, forcing his mind into focus. “You don’t know?”

Kili ran a hand through his unruly hair. Thorin realised he had never seen his nephew so messy and unkempt, and never so carelessly dressed, either.

“Mother, Thorin...” Kili began, and suddenly, there was a tear trickling down his cheek that he had no means to stop. “I don’t know what happened. Fili isn’t dead, but he is...”  
“What?” Dís voice was shaking with fear. “What has happened to him?”  
“I don’t know.” 

It was a toneless, helpless whisper. Kili suddenly looked like a boy again, confronted with a problem too big for him to understand. He sobbed once, and all of a sudden Dwalin was at his side and draped an arm around his shoulders. 

“Here now, lad. Get yerself together and tell us what happened.”  
Kili wiped his eyes and dragged both hands down his face. “I don’t know what happened, and why. But something... something makes us... we...” He broke off and shook his head. “Fili and I...”

“Fili,” Thorin said, gently but firm. “Where is your brother?”

Kili found he had no words, so he stepped away from Dwalin and lifted his arm, forearm outstretched. He looked up and could see the hawk who swooped once and gracefully landed on his outstretched arm. 

The heavy, devouring silence was pieced by a hitch in Dís’s breathing.

“I don’t know what happened,” Kili whispered again. “And I don’t know why it happens. But we were on our way back home, and we made camp the first day after the rain, and... and then it happened.”

“Your brother turned into a hawk?” Dwalin sounded as if he would like to kick Kili’s arse for making a joke in so poor a taste, but then Kili turned his head.   
The look he gave the older dwarf shut Dwalin up. “With every sunrise.”

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged a look of disbelief and fear.

“He turns back at sunset,” Kili said in a low, hoarse voice.  
Thorin saw the horror in his nephew’s eyes and felt he could not fathom what agony he had to be in. “And... and then?”   
Kili looked at the hawk. “I don’t know. I.. I turn into... I become a wolf at sunset. I have seen the tracks.”

For the first time in her life, Dís fainted.  
Thorin caught her with a muttered curse, but after a few seconds, her eyes fluttered open again. But as soon as she looked at Thorin, she burst into tears. Thorin did not begrudge her giving in to her feelings.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kili said in a small voice. “I don’t know why this has happened. I don’t know if Fili does, but I haven’t spoken to him since...” His voice broke. He missed him, and he felt terribly alone and somehow broken without Fili at his side.

“Maybe,” Dwalin began slowly. “Maybe we should all go inside, have a drink and let that settle.”  
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” Kili said as he looked at the hawk. “This is... it’s not Fili, not like you might think. If it’s for him like it is for me, then he doesn’t... he is not in the hawk. That is not Fili in that bird, that _is_ the hawk. And I am a wolf, I can’t remember anything when I come back. It’s like... it’s like a dream. Faint memories of a dream, but nothing more. I don’t know if the wolf should be trapped down there in the mountain.”

A heavy silence followed these words.

“And you... turn... at sunset?” Thorin felt he still could hardly grasp it.  
Kili simply nodded.   
“That is pretty soon,” Dwalin said. “So what is going to happen now?”  
Kili shrugged. “I don’t really know. I suggest you all keep well away from the wolf, but maybe F...Fili can tell you more.”

Then he looked up and at the sun that was almost touching the horizon. He went into a crouch and carefully set the bird down who ruffled his feathers and beat his wings once before folding them back. Then, with another look at the sun, Kili began to undress. 

“What in Durin’s name are you doing?” Thorin asked, shocked beyond words to describe it.  
Kili didn’t look up. “You don’t want a wolf tangled in some piece of clothing, I gather.”  
“But Kili...” Dís’s voice was a husky whisper.   
This time, Kili did look up and met his mother’s eyes, his face pale and drawn. “I don’t know what else to do, mother.”

He kicked off his boots and suddenly gasped for air, then tore the rest of his clothes off as if they were burning him. Dís watched her son with a soft sob she had no means to suppress, and then almost screamed in pure horror when she saw him being enveloped in a faint, golden sheen.

It happened simultaneously; there was the hawk and there was Kili, both covered in faint golden light, and within a heartbeat, Fili rose from the ground, naked and confused, as Kili’s body was suddenly covered in midnight black fur.

Despite the horror they had just been forced to watch, Dwalin somehow had enough wits left and presence of mind to tear his cloak off his shoulders and drape it around Fili’s naked body.

Fili looked around with wide eyes as if he had never been here before. Then he recognised the three dwarves around him. “Mother? Thorin?” He looked around again: “Dwalin... I’m home...?”

“My sons...” Dís sobbed. “What has happened to my sons? Mahal, what have you done to them?”  
“I doubt Mahal has much to do with this,” Thorin gave back and, together with his sister, took a step towards Fili. 

“I don’t know what has happened,” Fili said, and he sounded much like his brother; equally frightened, equally confused. “I just don’t know.”  
“Kili has told us the same,” Thorin gave back gently, in an attempt of somehow keeping control of the situation, as much as anyone could, anyway. “I guess you don’t know more than him.”

Fili shook his head. “No. I just know that he’s a wolf at night. Somehow the same happens to me at day, and I remember faint dreams of flying. I guess I’m a bird of some sort.”

It was then that it sunk in for the three dwarrow that Fili and Kili had had no means to communicate and had not spoken a word to each other and thus, had no idea what had been going on with themselves.

“A hawk,” Dwalin said after a moment. “You become a hawk.”  
Fili looked at his hands. “How is this even possible?”  
“I cannot imagine anyone here knows,” Thorin gave back. “The elves might.” It was clearly hard for him to admit as much, but his pride was not as important as his nephews’ fate right now.

“Gandalf,” Dís muttered suddenly. “Gandalf the Grey, he is a wizard. He would know!”  
“But no one knows where he is,” Dwalin gave back. “There isn’t a place like a hobbit hole or a mountain where he dwells.”  
“But Elrond might know,” Thorin said. “He greeted him like an old friend, remember?”

Fili had by now dug through his pack and produced his clothes. As he was putting on his fur-lined vest, he joined the conversation again. “Do you think travelling to Rivendell again could help us?”  
Thorin shrugged. “It could... certainly do no harm.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if Elrond can help you, but he might know someone who can. Or he might know where to find Gandalf.”  
“Do you think Gandalf can help us?” Fili’s voice sounded thin, as if he couldn’t really believe it.  
“If he doesn’t, then he know someone who will,” Dwalin said firmly.

No one spoke their thoughts out loud after that. Because if Gandalf couldn’t help them or know someone who could, then no one in Middle Earth would.


	7. Chapter 7

They had struck up a tent close to the gates of Erebor for Fili and Kili; the wolf, as Kili had mentioned, shouldn’t be down in the mountain and Fili refused to leave his brother’s side, no matter what shape.

There had not been much more to talk about, apart from Fili giving Thorin a report on what happened in Minas Tirith. Thorin discovered he had little interest in such trivial matters, all of a sudden, and would rather have spent his energies on finding a way to aid them, but he was the king and he had to consider the welfare of many more people than just his nephews.

After Fili had eaten some of the food his mother had brought him he had settled down in the tent on his bedroll, the wolf already curled up to one side. He gave him a flick of an ear as Fili sat down, but otherwise, remained relaxed. That immediately changed, however, when the tent flap opened again. 

The wolf lifted his head, and his whole body was suddenly taut as a spring. A low growl came from his throat as someone else entered the tent.

Dís looked down at the black wolf with an unmoving face. Fili could see she had been crying, but now she seemed as composed as ever. She met the wolf’s stare and did not flinch even as he got up and raised his hackles.

“I know you,” she said. “You may not remember, but I am your mother.”  
The wolf stopped growling, but still seemed on his guard.  
“Fili,” Dís said and sat slowly down beside her eldest. “Have you decided what to do?”

Fili tore his eyes away from the wolf. “We shall go to Mirkwood first. It happened on its boundaries, after all, and maybe Thranduil has heard of something. And if they can’t help us, we go to Rivendell.”  
“And then?”  
Fili met her eyes, looking helpless and vulnerable. “I don’t know. Find Gandalf?”  
Dís nodded with a heavy sigh. “You will be away from home for some time, I gather.”  
“I think so.” Fili kept looking at the wolf who had calmed down and was cautiously approaching them, nose extended.

Dís slowly turned her head to look at the wolf who seemed to sniff her out with puzzlement. “Yes, I am your mother. And if there is anything left of the one I gave birth to, then you should remember me.” She held out her hand.  
The wolf sniffed her fingers, and swept his tongue across her hand.  
“I thought as much,” Dís said, her face composed but her lips trembling. 

When she looked up again, she saw tears in her firstborn’s eyes. She reached out and touched his cheek.

“I miss him so much, _Amad_ ,” Fili whispered. “I haven’t spoken to him ever since... the first time... this happened. I can see him, when we... when we change, for a heartbeat, but I can’t reach him and I...” He wiped his eyes and dropped his head.   
It broke Dís’s heart to see him so devastated, and she knew that his brother felt the same way. “ _Dashatê_ ,” she whispered. “We will find a way for you to be together again.”  
Fili shrugged and didn’t meet her eyes.   
“Come here,” Dís said in a low voice, the tone of a mother offering comfort to a child in pain. 

For Fili it was impossible not to give in to that voice. He sank into his mother’s lap and began to cry, helpless sobs born from the helpless fear and the pain in his soul of being forced apart from the one he loved most. 

Dís kept running her hand through his hair, and then noticed the wolf settling down beside Fili, nudging him with his nose. She reached out and touched the fur between his ears, and the wolf looked up, met her eyes, and then rested his head on her thigh, beside his brother’s head.

Dís spent the night with her sons, let Fili fall asleep in her lap as if he was still a child afraid of the dark, and her fingers were stroking through golden hair and midnight black fur.

* * *

Fili awoke shortly before sunrise, and only exchanged a look with his mother before he silently undressed himself and left the tent. Dís kept her face under control, right until she heard the shriek of the hawk outside together with the beat of his wings. 

When Kili opened his eyes, he saw his mother cry, and as he closed his arms around her, she did the same and they held on to each other for a while. 

“What have you done to deserve this...” Dís whispered. “Why do you have to suffer all this?”  
Kili buried his face in her shoulder. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Unless Mahal has decided that brothers should not be lovers...”  
“Why should he...” Dís ran a hand through Kili’s hair. “Honestly... it has always been like this. Please do not think for a minute the love between you and Fili is something bad. You don’t even know if that has anything to do with this. How could a love as deep as yours have brought forth something so evil?”

Kili had no answer to this. It was a question he had asked himself many times during the last days, and he was sure Fili had done so, too. 

Kili and his mother left the tent soon after Kili had dressed himself, and found the hawk sitting on a rock, looking around with watchful, amber eyes.

To enter the mountain without his brother at his side hurt Kili more than he could have imagined, and as he went through his and his brother’s belongings and those in their packs, he didn’t bother to hide his tears. 

He packed the bare minimum of clothes and little else; it had most likely been difficult enough to travel with both ponies and a wolf so he thought it prudent to travel on foot. That meant they would be able to take only one pack, so everything not strictly necessary would have to be left behind.

He burst into tears once more as he packed his brother’s pipe beside his own, but furiously continued his work just to get it over with. He had looked forward to coming home with his brother. To have a bath and a bed again. Nothing of what he had imagined would happen now, and he missed Fili so much it physically hurt him.

He packed his brother’s weapons, maybe a few more knives than strictly necessary, after all, and readied his own. Some more provisions and a small pack with bandages and remedies his mother insisted on.

After a scant meal – he wasn’t really hungry despite having not eaten the night before – he shouldered the heavy pack and his bow. The sun was shining outside; it was a fine, clear day of late spring promising summer; as good a travelling weather as anyone could wish for. 

A few more dwarves were there to bid him and his brother farewell, and Kili accepted the many handshakes, shoulder pats and well wishes with silent nods. He embraced his mother and Thorin last.

“We will send word out for Gandalf,” Thorin assured him once more. “With every caravan and every trader here and in Dale.”  
Kili nodded.   
“Where will you be heading after Mirkwood?” Dís asked. “Rivendell?”  
Kili nodded again. “Lord Elrond might know something, or he might know where Gandalf is, or how to get hold of him. I haven’t planned any further than that.”

For a long, silent moment, he and Thorin looked at each other before the older dwarf nodded. “Safe travels, Kili. We will pray for your return.”  
Dís embraced him again and kissed both his cheeks. “Please return to me, both of you.”  
“If I had had any choice in the matter we would never have to leave again,” Kili whispered and kissed her forehead. “But you know that. Farewell, Amad.”

Bofur, Bifur, Nori and Dwalin accompanied Kili for a good part of the way to Mirkwood and made their farewells later that day when they were sure they could make it back in daylight. 

Kili watched them go, feeling lost and alone. Above him, the hawk circled with a shriek, and Kili shrugged his pack into place and turned his back to the mountain.

* * *

Entering Mirkwood brought forth a lot of unpleasant memories, and it posed a problem he had not foreseen: The hawk could not fly between the trees. After some coaxing, however, the bird could be persuaded to perch on Kili’s forearm. 

As soon as he reached it, Kili followed the forest river they had used for their escape in the barrels, and it seemed a lifetime ago or longer. This time, there were neither orcs nor elves hunting them, and he let the hawk fly for the rest of the afternoon.   
He reckoned that he was very close to the gate that had almost claimed his life back then when the sun began to set and Kili had to face the fact he could not go any further.

He set the pack down and began to undress, taking his brother’s clothes out of the pack before stuffing his own inside. The hawk shrieked and spiralled down, but with a sudden beat of his wings and an even harsher shriek, took to the air again. Kili felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck and tensed. 

“I would not advise swimming in this river, dwarf.”  
“I was not about to swim,” Kili gave back cautiously. “And I did not mean to trespass. I am on my way to the King of the Woodland Realm to beg for his help.”  
“And what would Thranduil be able to do for you, dwarf? And what makes you think he’d do it if he could?”  
“I don’t know.” Kili almost felt the tip of the arrow pointing at the back of his neck. “But my brother and I are in dire need of help and I will beg it of anyone who might have the knowledge to help us.”  
“Your brother?” The elf scoffed. “And where is your brother?”

Kili extended one arm, and the hawk swooped down to land on his forearm. Bare as it was, the talons dug into his skin and drew blood, but Kili ignored the pain. He could hear the sharp intake of breath of the elf behind him.

“This is my brother in his daylight form. And as soon as the sun begins to set, he will become a dwarf again, and I will turn into a wolf.”  
“A wolf? Are you mocking me?”  
“What would I be doing naked in your realm if I was mocking you? Insult you with the sight of my bare hairy ass?” Kili growled, already feeling the tightening, the pressure on his chest that meant change was imminent.

The hawk felt it, too, and hopped from his arm. The last thing Kili heard was a shout of surprise from the elf before his world went gray. 

Fili unfurled himself and stood up, only to look at the tip of an arrow. He looked past that, into the face of an elf, and if he hadn’t known any better, he’d have said the elf looked panicked.

“Are we in the Woodland realm?” He asked cautiously.  
“What kind of evil magic is this?” The elf met his eyes, and Fili couldn’t say if the fire in those eyes was fear or fury.  
“We don’t know. That is why we ask to speak to the King of Mirkwood. He might know, as it happened on the borders of these woods.”  
“You accuse Thranduil of this?”  
“No.” Fili did not flinch under the gaze. “I am accusing no one. I just hoped he might know about it.”

The elf stared at him for a long moment, then his eyes fell onto the wolf who had positioned himself at Fili’s side. “If I had not seen this with my own eyes, I’d shoot you for your insolence, dwarf. But for the treaty between the Woodland and the Mountain; get dressed and follow me.”

Fili did so gladly, as the air was getting rather cold. He found his weapons but decided not to arm himself, and hurried to put on his clothes and boots. After putting on the pack he followed the elf, accompanied by the wolf who made the impression of being nothing but Fili’s faithful canine companion.

* * *

Thranduil slowly descended the stairs from his throne and walked around Fili, inspecting both him and the wolf closely. He came to a halt in front of Fili again, radiating arrogance and pride, but his voice was not the snarl he had expected.

“And you say it was on the borders of these woods that it happened?”  
Fili nodded. “We had sought shelter in the East Bight,” he said. “But we had not entered the woods more than a few yards to gather firewood.”  
Thranduil narrowed his eyebrows and tapped his chin with a long and slender forefinger. “I have never heard of such before,” he said slowly. “And I would have, had it happened.”

Fili felt the blow harder than he had expected. He had not given himself much hope that Thranduil would be able to help, but it still was harder to take than he could have imagined. He bowed his head.

“You still have my thanks, King of the Woodland Realm, for listening to our plea.”  
“We do have a treaty,” Thranduil replied, sounding slightly bored. “But I have to admit, this is a fascinating matter anyway. Please be so kind as to inform me if you ever learn more. I might have to consider taking precautions for my people.”  
Fili bowed again. “You have my word on that, King of the Woodland realm.”

Thranduil nodded graciously and headed for his throne again, thus ending the audience. The elves who had brought Fili and the wolf into the halls of the King now accompanied them out again. They left them outside the gates without so much as a nod and the gates closed behind them.   
Fili shook his head with a heavy sigh and looked at the wolf. 

“I didn’t really expect it,” he said. “I guess Rivendell is next, then. I only hope we make it out of this forest alive.”

“You might need help with that,” a female voice sounded from somewhere behind the trees.

Fili reached for his sword.

“There is no need for arms, Fili.” A red-haired elf guard stepped into view. “Do you remember me?”  
Fili narrowed his eyes. “You are the elf who saved my brother in Laketown.”  
She nodded with a smile. “Tauriel.”

They silently looked at each other for a while. 

“I heard of your fate,” Tauriel said finally. “And my heart aches for you.”  
“It does?” Fili had little liking for her, and discovered to his shame that he was simply feeling jealous. He cleared his throat.  
Tauriel held his gaze. “Believe me, I have seen the bond between you and your brother. It was stronger than I could have imagined. And I can say with no regret that I have no place at his side other than in friendship, perhaps.”

Fili looked at her, forcing his frown to disappear. “I have never thanked you for saving him.”  
A small smile appeared on Tauriel’s lips. “I could not have done otherwise, even without being mildly infatuated with him.”  
The frown returned. “Infatuated?”  
This time, she laughed. “Your brother is sweet and kind, and he has beautiful eyes. I would not have minded him in my bed, but I doubt any more would have come of it.”

Fili took a deep breath. “My apologies for being so possessive.”  
Tauriel’s smile softened. “I would never have wanted to come between you and him. Please believe me.”  
“I do believe you,” Fili said, and he was not lying. 

After a moment, Tauriel looked at the wolf and slowly went down into a crouch. “It is a heavy and cruel fate that has befallen you two,” she said softly and extended her hand. 

The wolf stopped snarling and tipped his ears forward. He sniffed Tauriel’s fingers and relaxed.

“I will help you safely through the forest,” she said as she got up again. “I wish there was more I could do.”  
“It means a lot,” Fili said. “I was worried if and how we could make it.”  
“Follow me,” Tauriel said, shouldering her bow.

* * *

To say Kili was surprised to find Tauriel at their tiny campsite when he woke up was putting it mildly. But even greater than his surprise was his embarrassment and he rather hastily tried to cover himself.  
Tauriel tactfully pretended not to have noticed his nakedness.

Bearing the hawk on his forearm he followed her through the woods, heading for the eastern edge of the forest and the High Pass that would lead them to Rivendell.

When they made their farewells three days later it was mid morning. After finally having stepped free of the trees, the hawk had eagerly taken to the sky with a shriek. Kili watched him fly until a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“I hope for your sake that Lord Elrond will be able to help you,” Tauriel said softly.  
Kili looked up at her. “I don’t know what to do if he can’t.” He made no effort to hide his fear.  
Tauriel squeezed his shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. “You will find a way. Your bond will carry you through this, and you will emerge stronger, both of you.”  
Kili met her eyes. “You believe that, don’t you?”  
“I believe that everything happens for a reason,” Tauriel replied. “And even though I can’t imagine why, I know that there must be a greater purpose that we cannot yet see.”

Kili looked up again at the sky and the hawk. 

Tauriel let go of his shoulder and as Kili looked at her again, she bowed down and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Take strength from each other,” she said softly. “And if you should ever need me you know where to find me, _mellonîn. Na lû e-govaned vîn._ ”  
A faint smile on his lips, Kili shrugged. “I don’t know what that means.”  
“No, you wouldn’t,” Tauriel replied with a soft laugh. “I called you my friend. Until next we meet.”  
Kili bowed. “ _Tak natu yenet, bahunaê_. Until we meet again, my friend.”

They clasped hands, and Kili turned away from the forest, heading for the High Pass that would lead them to Rivendell. Above, the hawk followed him, and Tauriel watched them until they had vanished out of sight.


	8. Chapter 8

Kili managed to reach the Old Ford over the river Anduin before nightfall, and crossed it again the next day with the rising sun at his back and the hawk in the lead. To get his mind to focus on other things than his and his brother’s dire predicament he delved into the memories of their journey towards the mountain. He realised it was almost a year ago now. It had been midsummer’s eve upon their arrival in Rivendell and now it was late spring

But Kili realised that he faced another problem as he approached the High Pass over the Misty Mountains. He had to make sure to get across in one day. He could climb well enough and the hawk could fly, but the wolf would not be able to cross the more difficult terrain. Apart from that he vividly remembered the rock giants and their battle and the fact that no cave was safe to take shelter in up in those mountains. So he walked as fast as he could and as far as he dared to make sure that they could make it across at least the most dangerous part of the pass in one day. 

Fili settled down with his pipe that night, watching the mountains with a thoughtful frown as the wolf rested at his side. He, too, remembered the perils of their journey and was aware of the fact that they had to make it across in daylight. He would think about finding the path to Rivendell once they had crossed the mountains. With a deep sigh, he put down his pipe and went to sleep beside the wolf as he listened to the small campfire and the wind in the pines.

Kili didn’t waste any time with breakfast the next morning, he broke off a piece of bread and chewed on that while he walked. He tightened the straps and buckles of his pack as ground got steeper, and soon was sweating despite the cool morning air as he took the ascent as fast as he could. This time, he had no eyes for the beauty of the landscape and the grandness of the mountains. His eyes were on the path, and he willed himself to go on as fast as he could, almost jogging whenever the ground was more or less level. He was relieved to find that shortly after noon, he had managed to reach the highest point.

Again, he did not bother taking a break to eat, he took another piece of bread and a strip of jerky and continued his struggle against the mountains and time itself. He had to reach lower ground with more level footing before sunset. 

Navigating the descent down rocky outcrops and gravelly slopes in his already exhausted state, Kili still pushed himself; down, just downwards, away from the flanks of the peaks with their dangerous caves and gorges where the very bedrock could come alive under a traveller’s feet.

He was so spent when he felt the first tugs of change that he almost lost his balance when he stopped. And as bone-weary as he was, he only managed to tear off the clothes off his body before the change took him.

Fili uncurled himself and looked around in a mixture of awe and worry. Kili had pushed himself so hard they had actually made the crossing and the most dangerous part in one day. No wonder he had not been able to set up a proper camp as he usually did.

Fili gathered up his brother’s clothing and decided against a fire as not to alert any goblins that might be about at night. He knew he could sleep without fear; the senses of the wolf would alert them to any enemy long before said enemy might have detected them. So he placed his bedroll next to the wolf who had curled up behind a small outcrop of rocks to be out if the wind and dug into his pack to find something to eat, realising that hardly anything was missing compared to the night before. 

“Hey, brother.” He held out a strip of jerky to the wolf. “You must be starving.”  
The wolf flicked an ear, and then slowly lifted his head. He sniffed at the strip of dried meat between Fili’s fingers and took it cautiously, mindful of the sharp fangs.   
“Another?” Fili offered the wolf another piece of meat, and the wolf let himself be fed like a tame dog. 

After feeding the wolf Fili then poured some water into his cupped hand to let him drink, and only when the wolf curled up again with a canine sigh did Fili take care of the needs of his own body. 

When Kili woke up the next morning he found himself covered with a blanket. He was confused at first and then realised Fili must have covered him after he awoke, to make sure his brother wouldn’t freeze so much when he would change and be naked to the cold morning air. With his eyes burning, Kili dressed himself and sat down for breakfast, leaning against the rock at his back and watching the sky. Only when the hawk swooped past did he relax, and with a heavy, weary sigh, he shouldered the pack and continued westward, down the slope gentle levelling down towards the plain.

The plain where they had been chased by wargs and orcs, Kili remembered. Down there was the hidden path to Rivendell, but the landscape looked the same into every direction, undulated ground covered in brown-green grass and strewn with rocks and clusters of rocks in all sizes. 

With a sigh and a shrug, Kili continued westward until he could hear the river and realised this was the same river they had followed back then towards the pass. The river should lead them to Rivendell, or at least close enough to find another way into the valley. 

The sun hung low in the sky when Kili heard the hawk above shriek, and as he looked up he saw the bird swoop down towards him. He extended his left arm and the bird settled there, folding his wings and ruffling his feathers. Kili frowned but walked on, until suddenly, before him the ground split into the wide, waterfall-strewn valley of Imladris. 

Kili stood for a moment and drank in the sight of the Last Homely House, the lace-like architecture that seemed too frail for a dwarven mind, airy and sun swept houses and galleries that were too open and spaced for dwarfish tastes. But still, Kili thought it was beautiful in a strange, alien way. Smiling a little to himself despite his tiredness, Kili scrambled down the rocky slope until he hit the path leading to the bridge they had crossed back then. 

Two elven guards with spears greeted him as opposed to a large group of riders, but they lowered their weapons when they realised that while Kili was a dwarf, he was alone and unarmed and most likely no threat.

“What do you want, dwarf?” One of the guards asked.  
“I would like to speak to Lord Elrond,” Kili gave back cautiously. “I need his aid.”  
“And what would that be?” The other guard looked as bored and haughty as the first. 

Kili sighed and closed his eyes for a second before continuing. “We need his help in... a matter of magic nature. I and my brother have...”  
“Your brother?” The first guard tensed the slightest bit. “Is he behind you somewhere?”  
Kili met the elf’s eyes unflinchingly and extended his left forearm with the hawk balancing on it. “This is my brother. And this is the reason why we travelled here from the Lonely Mountain to seek Lord Elrond’s help.”

The two guards exchanged a long look and then a nod before one of them turned around and headed up the stairs. Kili kept his eyes on the hawk as he waited.

* * *

The hawk perched on a small pedestal in the large chamber where Elrond had entertained them to a meal back then, and Kili did not like to think back on how graceless the dwarves had repaid the elves their hospitality back then. He realised that without Thorin and his grudge towards the elves and his animosity, everything that they had done in the spirit of backing up their leader and to spite the beings he hated had been nothing more than childish manners and in very poor taste. And now here they were; needing the help of the very being they had insulted before fleeing his house like thieves as a thanks for his hospitality and the fact that his warriors had saved them from the orc pack.

Lord Elrond had looked at the hawk for a very long time now without a muscle moving in his face before he looked at Kili again. Upon noticing the young dwarf’s facial expression, however, his eyebrows rose.

“I assure you, young master dwarf, that you have no enemies here.”  
Kili tried to smile. “I know. I was just...” He curled his fingers nervously. “I remembered we didn’t part in a very graceful manner last time we were here.”  
At that, Lord Elrond actually smiled. “Well, the visit of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is something that will be remembered and talked about for quite some time yet, I gather.”  
Kili felt the unwelcome heat of a blush on his face.

“I assure you as well that no one here bears any ill will towards you because of it,” Elrond said and folded his hands behind his back as he turned to the bird again.   
“Maybe.” Kili gritted his teeth. “But it gripes me, knowing we behaved like ill-mannered children as a thanks for your gracious hospitality.”  
Elrond slowly turned around again and put a hand on Kili’s shoulder. “You should not be ashamed for what you are, Prince Kili.”  
“I am not, Lord Elrond. But we could have done better, and we didn’t. That’s what I’m ashamed of.”

Elrond’s smile softened and he gently squeezed Kili’s shoulder before letting go. “Is it a wish for forgiveness I can sense?”  
Kili lowered his eyes for a second before he met Elrond’s again: “Yes.”  
“Then you shall have it, and my affirmation that my desire to be of help in this matter is entirely unaffected by what happened in the past.”  
Kili looked at his feet. “You are most gracious, Mylord Elrond.”  
“Let us not dwell on the past, young prince.” Elrond walked around the hawk again while the bird eyed his every move. 

Elrond now stopped, facing the bird, and muttered something in elfish. The hawk spread his wings and beat them once, but folded them back again, seemingly relaxed. When the elf reached out, the bird had nothing against the long fingers stroking over the feathers on his back.

“Never have I heard about a thing like this,” Elrond said slowly. “Whatever this magic is, it is entirely unfamiliar to me.”  
Kili felt his hope shatter like brittle old earthenware.  
“Let us not give up hope so easily, Master dwarf.” Elrond crossed his hands at his back again. “I have a very extensive library with books dating far into the first age. Let me consult those books, and you and your brother shall be my guests for as long as you like.

Kili bowed, but when he straightened up he realised the sun was almost touching the horizon. He tensed, and with his breath coming in heavy gusts, he began to unbuckle his belt.

Elrond swiftly walked to his side. “Is there anything I could do?”  
Kili looked up at him and mutely shook his head before shrugging off his tunic. 

Elrond nodded and stood back; not to watch Kili undress but to observe the change that was taking place only moments later. His eyebrows rose when he saw the golden glow, and he slowly shook his head when Fili uncurled, looking around him with a puzzled frown. He would have lost his balance and fallen form the little pedestal had Elrond not hurried to his aide to take his hand.

“Welcome to Rivendell, Master Fili,” Elrond said. “Your brother has already introduced me to your predicament, but as of yet, I have to admit that I have no knowledge regarding this conundrum. You are my guests while I try to find something in any of my books.”

Fili let himself be helped down from the pedestal and nodded as he walked over to the pack and the wolf sitting beside it. While he dressed, he noticed that Elrond approached the wolf to say some words of elfish to him in a low voice. Then he reached out to touch the black fur, but just as Fili was about to warn him off, the wolf leaned into the touch with a lolling tongue.

Elrond looked up and met Fili’s eyes. “If nothing else, young prince, then I hope I could make your fate a little less hard. The wolf as well as the hawk will now respond more friendly and less afraid towards people, be they human, dwarf or elf. They will no longer see people as a threat, but will surely flee or attack if their dwarfish companion will tell them to.”  
Fili bowed after buckling his belt. “It will make life easier. Thank you, Mylord Elrond.”  
Elrond gave him a friendly nod and accompanied Fili and his brother to their quarters. 

It was nice, sleeping in a real bed for a change, but Fili’s mind found no rest for a long time. It was over a month now that he had heard his brother’s voice for the last time, had touched him, had seen his smile. Staring at the wolf curled up on a blanket beside his bed, Fili felt his eyes burn and his vision blur when he thought of his brother, so close to him and yet so far away. He reached out to touch the black fur on the wolf’s back, but what little comfort it gave him was not more than a tiny drop in the dried out ocean of Fili’s soul.

* * *

Accepted as guests of Lord Elrond and free to go where they pleased Kili found himself wandering the paths and walkways in the valley, between the parts of settlement and the woods between them. He passed ancient, moss-covered statues that seemed older than the mountains, fountains of clever designs where water sprouted out of lifelike animals carved of snow-white stone and dwellings open to sunlight and air where he could sometimes catch glimpses of Elrond’s people going about their daily lives.

He felt like a spectre, non-existent to them, or tolerated at most, watching them and listening to their laughter and songs without having a place to share those. Having grown up in the tight-knit community of dwarves with their ties of family and friendship where there were always helping hands and friendly souls, Kili had never felt so alone in his life.

Until the day he stumbled upon the archery range by chance. He had heard it first, and the unmistakable sound of a string being released and an arrow hitting a target had drawn him. He had watched the elven archers, fully aware of the fact that he looked like a child watching adults, when one of the elves noticed him and greeted him friendly. 

“Here, Master dwarf!” He waved Kili over. “Be our guest!”  
Kili walked towards the archers with a cautious nod.  
“We weren’t aware of dwarves being interested in archery,” another of the elves said.  
“I’m an archer myself,” Kili said, and immediately was the centre of attention. 

He was asked countless questions about types of bows and arrows, about poundage and draw length and knocks and feathers and shooting styles that in the end he could only oblige, fetch his bow and arrows, and spent the rest of the day talking shop with the elves, trading techniques and moves and sharing a skin of wine. When Kili returned to their quarters shortly before sundown he was in a far brighter mood.

Fili was sitting cross-legged on his bed later that evening, smoking his pipe and staring at the stars through the open door that led onto the small balcony, when a soft knock coming from the door tore him out of his musings.

“Yes?” He took the pipe out of his mouth and looked up.  
Elrond entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Good evening, young prince.”  
Fili swung his legs from the bed and left the bed as Elrond sat down on a chair so he was eye-level with the young dwarf. “What can I do for you, Mylord Elrond?”

Elrond inclined his head and looked at Fili for a long moment. It was enough for Fili to know what he was going to say. Elrond seemed to have read his mind, for he lowered his head and looked at Fili again with sadness in his eyes. 

“I found nothing, neither in my library nor in my memory. I have never seen magic like this before, I can only sense a vague familiarity.”  
“And that means?” Fili realised he had not really expected Elrond to know, but it was still a blow.  
“It means that this magic reminds me of the dark magic of Mordor, but somehow weaker, and... different. It is like the leaf, and the apple. Both come from the same tree, and looking at the leaf you know it is from an apple tree, and yet the leaf and the fruit have little in common besides that.”

“I’m not sure I fully understand,” Fili said slowly. “But you have my heartfelt gratitude for trying and for sheltering us under your roof.”  
“I wish I could do more for you,” Elrond gave back. “And not only for your sake. It might be a greater threat behind this that we do not know and cannot recognise. I understand and I agree with you about finding Gandalf. He is the one who has travelled all of Middle Earth and is the most likely to recognise it.”  
“But you don’t know where to find him,” Fili said. “Do you?”  
“No. Not at the moment.” Elrond got up from the chair. “But I will have word out for him.”

Fili looked up at Elrond, jaws locked tight. 

“You should return home to your mountain,” Elrond said gently. “Gandalf will find you there.”  
“We will.” Fili sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders drop under the heavy weight. “You have my thanks, Lord Elrond, and I would be grateful if you could fill my brother in, come morning. I guess we will be on our way with sunrise day after tomorrow.”  
“You can rest assured that I will.” Elrond bowed and left him. 

Fili fell onto the bed after the door had closed and stared at the ceiling, tracing the complicated interlaced vines with his eyes until his vision blurred.

* * *

Elrond found Kili the next morning after the morning meal to explain to him what he had spoken about with his brother. Kili nodded mutely, not really surprised but still heavy-hearted. He had kept on telling himself that there was only a very small chance Elrond might know something, but to have even that tiny bit of hope shattered weighed heavily on him. He didn’t go out to the archery range that day and spent the day sitting on the balcony, staring out over the valley. 

It was shortly before sundown that the hawk came back, landing gracefully on the railing of the balcony. Kili got up to offer the bird his forearm and carried him inside. It was just as he had set the bird down that someone knocked at the door.

“Yes?”  
Elrond entered the room, a faint smile on his face. “Good evening, Master Kili. I come with tidings.”  
Kili forced his thoughts to remain calm. “News of Gandalf?”  
“He was last seen between the North Downs and the Hills of Evendium, only weeks ago. He might still be west of here.”

Kili nodded slowly and closed his eyes. His chest constricted and he hastily unbuckled his belt. “Tell my brother,” he managed to say before his mind began to blur. 

From the corners of his eyes he saw the golden flicker from the bed, but he could no longer turn his head to catch a glimpse of his brother before he vanished in the wolf.

* * *

The brothers left Rivendell three weeks after their arrival, but they travelled west, not back east, back home. Gandalf had been seen somewhere to the north-west, and even if he might not be in the North Downs anymore, he was likely still somewhere west of the Misty Mountains.

Kili crossed the Bruinen shortly after bidding the Last Homely House farewell and followed the road west, the hawk circling above; his only companion again. There were no other travellers on the road, no one Kili might have asked about the whereabouts of the grey wizard. He was alone again with his thoughts and his fears, alone with his own voice the only company while his brother was as far away to him as the moon.

He passed the Trollshaws shortly before nightfall, and with a strange feeling he could not name he strode into the undergrowth before he finally looked up at the three massive stone figures. Memories swirled through his mind like dry leaves in a gust of wind.

_“Drop him!”_

_“Lay down your arms, or we rip his off!”_

_“In fact they all have, it’s a terrible business, really, I wouldn’t risk it.”_

A faint smile flit over Kili’s face. 

_“We’re riddled with parasites!”_

_“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”_

Kili shrugged off his pack with a shake of his head. Bilbo had saved their lives back then, for the first time and not for the last. Sometimes, he found he missed the brave little hobbit.

He heard the hawk and looked up to see the bird land on the head of one of the trolls. Kili kept his eyes on the bird as he gathered a few twigs and began to build a fire, and he kept his eyes on the bird as he began to undress upon feeling the pressure of the change approach. 

The hawk swooped down and landed right in front of him, but the golden light was there as soon as the bird hit the ground, and again there was only their eyes meeting for a heartbeat before they were torn apart again.


	9. Chapter 9

Three days they travelled on the Great East Road; or rather, Kili travelled with the hawk as companion, while Fili build the camp at night and was left wondering how long his brother could keep this up. It was Kili who carried their pack, and it was Kili who did all the walking. Fili knew it couldn’t be helped, and he could only hope that with the light summer nights to come, he could simply continue walking for a few hours after sundown; wherever they would be headed by then.

Two weeks on the East West Road had brought them close to Bree; they had passed the Weather Hills the day before and now Kili decided to make camp early; meaning to head to Bree to ask if anyone might have heard about the grey wizard. It was around noon when he left the pack hidden in the shrubs at the edge of a small clearing that would be the perfect spot for a camp later on. The hawk settled down on a low-hanging branch of a beech tree and ruffled his feathers, but made no attempt at following his dwarven companion. Maybe he needed to hunt and eat; a thought Kili rather did rather not dwell on.

An hour’s swift walk had him reach Bree, but no one in the village had heard about the wizard, and no one could either confirm or deny whether Gandalf indeed might be wandering the North Downs. 

Frustrated and tired, Kili bartered a few supplies, bread and two bottles of ale, before he headed back to the small clearing where he had left the hawk and their pack.

To discover it gone. 

Someone had dragged the pack out of the shrubbery, and the hawk was gone, too. With an ice-cold shiver creeping down his spine and something cold and hard settling in his stomach Kili noticed a few white and brown feathers in the middle of the clearing after depositing ale and bread from Bree at the foot of a large beech. With trembling hands, he bent down to examine the ground. He found tracks, human footprints as it seemed, and followed them as silently as he could through the shrubs and trees, all the time trying not to think about the feathers.

He did not have to search for long before he heard voices, and he silently hefted his bow and knocked an arrow. In a low crouch, he approached another clearing; five men were sitting around Kili’s pack and examining the contents. He settled down behind some hazel bushes growing beside a dead tree, peeking around the moss-covered trunk.

“Bit small,” one of them remarked, a pock-marked, haggard man with a scruffy beard. “Seems we found the pack of a dwarf.” He was holding Fili’s shirt up with a frown.  
“Have you seen these?” Another man, stout and small, held up one of Fili’s swords. 

Kili tightened the grip around his bow.

“That’s dwarf work, for sure,” a third one answered, a broad and strongly built man, tall and broad-shouldered, with the air of a warrior about him who was also missing an eye and several teeth. “Is gonna be difficult selling those in Bree. Too many dwarves about there. Might ask uncomfortable questions.”  
“I’m not gonna take this shit all the way to Fornost,” the pock-marked man replied.   
“And what’re ya gonna do with it?” The stout one hefted Fili’s blade in his paw and Kili gritted his teeth. “Could well be worth it carrying these to Fornost, if ye ask me.”  
“Yeah, and you gonna walk into town selling dwarf weapons, what? Six weeks after the blacksmith’s workshop was combed in the middle of the night? You got a death-wish, Orla?”  
The stout one huffed. “Got a better idea, you scut?”

The pock-marked shot an angry look at the stout one. Thinking about the words about the blacksmith in Fornost convinced Kili he was dealing with bandits, and he closed his left hand tighter around his bow. There were only three of them, so with ambushing them he might have a chance to take them out. 

“Bengol is right,” the tall one said. “I know it’s worth it carrying this to Fornost, Orla, but we gotta wait until the dust has settled. We just have to stash them.”  
“Right, have it your way. We stash’em.” The stout one called Orla leaned forward and inspected one of Fili’s daggers. “But I’m gonna keep this one for myself.” He started cleaning the dirt from under his nails with it and Kili had to force himself to keep calm. 

Resting his weight on his right knee Kili slowly drew the bow, deciding he would take out the tallest one first. If need be, he could take out one or even two of them with his sword, and the tall one was the greatest risk due to his longer reach. He aimed for his throat, fingers resting against his cheek, waiting for the right moment, the right angle, keeping his breathing calm. Then the man turned his head, and Kili let the arrow fly.

The arrow buried itself in the man’s throat, and before he had even hit the ground, Kili had knocked another arrow. But the other two had jumped up with shouts of alarm, and Kili let the second arrow loose, but hit only the pock-marked one’s shoulder instead of making a clean kill like with the first shot. He knocked a third arrow and loosed it in one smooth motion, hitting the pock-marked one squarely in the chest just as the stout one had finally discovered where the arrows had come from. Kili dropped the bow and unsheathed his sword.

The bandit was a poor fighter, clumsy and slow, but just as Kili buried his blade in his guts he heard more shouts. Two more men came running, alarmed by the shouts, and dropped the firewood they had been carrying. Kili spun around with a curse. 

He ducked under blade the first man swung at him and struck the back of his leg as he slid past him. He was wearing no armour and the blow hamstrung his left leg. Screaming, the man went down on one knee and struck at Kili again who had just managed to dodge a blow from the second bandit. But Kili had the reflexes of long years of training and parried the blow while he ducked away from another. He spun around and swung his blade, all but decapitated the kneeling man, and after a few clumsily exchanged blows, managed to kick out the legs form under his last adversary and quickly buried his blade between the man’s ribs as his back hit the ground.

Breathing heavily but with a grin, Kili turned around, but no more sounds were heard. A bird began to sing again after a few moments, and with a heavy huff of breath, Kili sheathed his sword. Smiling to himself he walked across the small clearing towards his pack when he passed the campfire.

A bird was roasting above the fire on a spit.

Kili froze. 

Then he shook his head, but the hairs on his body suddenly stood on edge. “No,” he said, fully aware how much his voice was trembling. “Men don’t eat birds of prey.” He looked up at the circle of sky above him. “Fili? Fili!”

There was no sound, just the wind in the trees and the single bird. Kili’s hands began to tremble. It was then that he noticed a pile of feathers somewhat away from the fire; next to a fallen tree, feathers in a brown and white pattern. He shook his head, bile rising in his throat.

“No,” he croaked tonelessly. “No, that’s not...” The smell of roasting fowl hit his nose and he retched once. “No... it’s not.... it can’t be.” He looked up again. “Fili? Fili! FILI!!”

No answer.

“Mahal have mercy, it can’t be...” Kili’s knees hit the ground as he stared at the spitted bird. “No, please no... Mahal, no, men don’t eat birds of prey...”

A groan behind him made Kili scramble to his feet. The pock-marked bandit was still alive despite the arrow in his chest. But he was pale and red froth was trickling out of his mouth. Without thinking, Kili was at his side and had him by the yokes with one hand while pressing his dagger to his throat with the other.

“What have you done to the bird?” Kili yelled. “What have you done?!”  
The bandit looked at him and coughed. “Bird? Did nothing to the... was already dead, man... didn’t wanna let it go to waste...”

With a hoarse growl Kili slit the man’s throat and dropped the twitching body. His world began to spin. 

Slowly, very slowly, he turned around again to look at the small fire. And the bird, roasting on a spit. The bandits had seemingly found some wild garlic to stuff the bird with, and the smell of fowl and wild garlic made Kili retch. 

He looked up again, his knees feeling like they were about to give way under him. 

“Fili?” 

But his eyes were drawn back to the fire, and the heap of feathers and entrails lying a few feet away. Brown and white feathers. Kili fell to his knees and retched, then he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He hurled the contents of his stomach out so violently he almost fell over. Then a violent sob forced its way out of his chest, and with a scream Kili staggered back onto his feet. 

“FILI!” He almost lost his balance screaming at the sky above. “FILI!!”

Panic suddenly enveloped him like a shroud. The wolf. The sun was already low, and soon he would become a wolf, and he would not be aware of... Kili retched again despite his stomach being empty. His mind reeled. The wolf would have no reservations...

“No...” 

Kili stumbled over his own feet as he hastened towards the fallen bandits and picked up the fat one’s broadsword. Urged by panic he rammed the blade into the earth and with a blurring vision, began to hack away at the ground, unaware that tears were streaming down his face. Eyes wild and teeth bared, he hacked and dug like a madman while sobbing and retching, begging Mahal to end his nightmare and let him wake up. Not his brother. Not Fili!

Deep enough. The hole had to be deep enough that the wolf could not dig the body out again. Sobbing and cursing Kili scratched and hacked, digging the earth out of the deepening hole with his bare hands, just deeper, deeper, just so the wolf could not get at the bird, just so he would not wake up the next morning with his dead brother’s flesh in his belly. He retched again, mingled with a sob, and kept digging, hair plastered to his head with sweat, his nails and the skin on his hands breaking and bleeding.

The hole was as deep as he could get it without a shovel, but deep enough, surely deep enough, he could barely reach down there anymore. But as he turned around he realised he would have to touch the roasting bird, touch it, the roasted body seasoned with wild garlic, and he shuddered in revulsion while bitter gale rose in his throat again and oozed out of the corners of his mouth as he retched. 

His hands were shaking so hard he almost couldn’t do it, sobbing and cursing, sweat dripping down his face and tears trickling down his cheeks as he took hold of the spit. He recoiled, shuddered, screamed in fury at Mahal to have mercy on him, then crawled on his knees towards the hole and dropped the bird into the hole with another sob. 

The sky began to change colour and with another surge of panic Kili began to shovel the dirt back into the hole, more and more until the hole was filled again, and with his last remaining strength, he dragged one body after another over to the hole to hide the grave under the scent of death. He didn’t care if the wolf would feed on the bandits. He didn’t care what happened next. He only cared about not waking up with his brother’s flesh in his belly. Sobbing and almost choking on his tears, he then tore off his clothes as the sun sunk and he felt the pressure of change, and for the first time, he welcomed it and the oblivion it brought.

* * *

Kili awoke curled up in the hollow under the roots of the fallen tree, naked and freezing and hungry. It took his addled mind only a second, however, to remember the day before and with a sob, he curled himself up even tighter, unwilling to face the daylight and the reality that awaited him above, on the clearing. But maybe he should. Maybe he should get up and get back there, find his weapons, take his dagger and soak the ground with his own blood to join his brother. Put an end to this nightmare.

He uncurled himself, cold and hollow inside. He crawled out of the indention and looked across the small clearing. Slowly he got onto his feet and dragged himself step for step towards it. Imagined the dagger, the fine, sharp dagger Fili had gifted him on Durin’s Day three years ago. Could feel the blade biting in his flesh, a last touch of his brother, before he would join him. 

He leaned heavily against a tree as he looked at the heap of bodies and what they covered. At his belongings on the other side of the clearing, at the foot of a tree. 

Kili fell to his knees with a gasp, feeling as if he just had been impaled again by Bolg, a coldness spreading in his lips, the pain in his stomach, tears forcing themselves out of his eyes beyond his means to control them.

His clothes were folded in a neat pile, his weapons lying right beside it.

“Fili?” It was a hoarse croak, hardly audible, hardly recognizable as his voice. “Fili?”

On all fours because he didn’t have the strength to walk anymore, Kili crawled across the clearing towards his belongings, his clothes and his weapons, lying beside the pack. He managed to pull on his shirt and trousers, but his hands were shaking so badly he gave up on buckling his belt. Leaning his back against the tree he stared ahead, seeing nothing and feeling nothing, until he heard it: The shriek of a hawk. 

Slowly, Kili lifted his eyes away from the pile of bodies and looked up. He saw the bird circle above the clearing and watched as he swooped down to land on a branch of the tree opposite him. 

“Fili?” A toneless whisper.

The bird adjusted his wings. Swallowing hard, Kili lifted his left arm and reached out for the bird. Amber eyes mustered him, then the bird spread his wings and gracefully sailed towards him to land on his arm. 

Kili broke into tears and the bird nervously adjusted his position.

Kili wanted nothing more than to touch him at that moment, to make sure he was really there, to make sure that yesterday had only been a nightmare, just a mistake, just a bad memory now and nothing more. But as he reached out for the bird the hawk gave him a gentle warning nip with his beak.

Wiping the tears from his face with one hand Kili pushed his other arm upwards and the hawk rose with silent grace and took to the sky. Kili watched him for a while before he forced his eyes away from him and finished dressing himself. 

Unable to resist he went over to the fallen tree and checked the feathers, and broke out in a brittle, almost hysterical laugh. 

“Pheasant,” he chuckled shakily, shaking his head. “You stupid clod head, you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble! What kind of hunter are you if you can’t tell the feathers of a pheasant apart from those of a hawk?” 

But his stomach still hurt from throwing up and his head still spun when he thought about the day before, so he turned away from the remains of the pheasant and forced his mind away from the memories.

He had a scant breakfast of bread and jerky before gathering his weapons and shouldering the pack. 

After a last glance at the dead bandits and a last shuddering thought at what was buried under the heap of bodies he left the clearing behind to head north. He reached the road to Fornost later that day and made camp as usual, watching the hawk land with a smile and with his heart clenching in pain and longing.

* * *

To say Fili had been worried when he had found himself facing a heap of bodies was putting it mildly. He could see his brother’s weapons and clothes, scattered carelessly, and the wolf was nowhere in sight. But since he knew better than to startle a wounded, or possibly wounded, predator, he had spent the night only half-asleep and terribly worried. 

When he now found himself in a different camp than the night before relief washed over him like cool rain on a hot summer day. None of the medical supplies and bandages were missing, and Fili dressed himself feeling proud of his brother who had taken down five men, bandits, most likely, by the look of them and the fact that the contents of their pack including Fili’s weapons had been strewn about. And not only had Kili taken them down, he had done so without being injured himself.

Fili desperately longed to check on his brother to see if he really was unharmed, or just to tell him how proud he was, but the wolf on the other side of the clearing only flicked his ears at him when he spoke and Fili gave up on relieving his mind with the animal. He might hear, but he did not understand.

Fili threw a small stick into the fire and frowned. It was bad enough that his brother had to do all the travelling, but that he would have to do the fighting alone was griping his very soul. He was awake for a long time while staring into the flames, and even after crawling under his blanket, he could find no rest for a very long time. 

He dreamed of his brother.

_Kili smiled at him, pinned under Fili’s body, both of them naked, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Kili’s hands were buried in his hair, and with a racing heart and an aching in his groin Fili claimed Kili’s lips in a hungry kiss. He could feel his beloved brother’s hard cock against his belly, touching his own, and he breathed heavily into the kiss._

_“Fili...” A soft whisper, full of love, full of hunger._   
_“Nadadith...” Fili closed his eyes with a smile. “My love...”_   
_“Don’t leave me,” Kili whispered._

_Fili was just about to assure him that he never would when he felt something grip him. Or someone. Hard and painful around his shoulders, tearing him away from the warmth of his brother. He saw his widening eyes, his name on Kili’s lips, before he was dragged away, and up, as if he was clutched in the talons of a giant bird. Rough laughter rang in his ears, his brother was gone, Fili was alone, shaken by a giant fist, a searing pain biting into his back. A pain so overwhelming he couldn’t even breathe._

_And then the grip on him was suddenly gone, and Fili fell. He fell, and fell and fell, and hit the ground in an explosion of pain that tore his soul and his body apart._

Fili gasped in pain, a pain remembered so vividly that he could feel it, feel the bite of the blade into his back and the shattering agony upon landing on frozen ground. He could hardly breathe, he was shaking with terror, and he was utterly alone. Curling himself together under the blanket he tried to stem his fears, tried to force his terror away and bury it, but the cold remained, and he did not sleep anymore that night.

* * *

Fili entered the town of Fornost three days later shortly after nightfall. But no one had seen or heard anything of the grey wizard. Not even offering coin for knowledge got Fili any more information than this. The only thing they had to go by were Lord Elrond’s words that Gandalf had been seen wandering these hills, but while elven eyes might have seen him, human ones clearly had not. 

Fili left Fornost again around midnight with a heavy heart, the wolf at his side like a tame dog, and struck up camp close to the road somewhat south of town feeling utterly lost and helpless. And looking at the wolf curled up close to the fire, utterly alone as well. 

“I miss you, Kili,” he whispered into the flames. “I miss you so much it hurts. Sometimes I wish we had died in the battle after all, then we would be in the Halls and together and none of this had ever happened.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I miss you, _nadadith_.”


	10. Chapter 10

Still hoping to find Gandalf, still hoping he might still be somewhere in the area that Lord Elrond had talked about, the two brothers headed south-west from Fornost, past the Hills of Evendium after fording the Branduin west of Fornost. 

With no means to communicate they still had to rely on their intuition to guess where the other should go, but so far they had never run in circles, mostly because Kili did the travelling at day. But summer was well underway right now and after finding the camp not where he had struck it for two nights in a row Kili simply stopped with sundown and let Fili take the pack to make some more miles and set up camp.

A week after leaving Fornost they reached the White Downs on a clear, warm evening and Fili was walking through the night, listening to the sounds of the nightly forest and his own footsteps. The wolf accompanied him; sometimes he was ahead and sometimes following behind, but he was always there. At one point he vanished, however, but Fili didn't give it any notice. It had happened many times before and the wolf would always come back after hunting.

Shortly after Fili decided to look for a suitable camp spot he could spot a campfire himself, and he could hear laughter and songs. His heart longed for some company, but he still approached the fire cautiously. The wolf was still nowhere in sight, and after Fili had observed the five men for a while and listened to their talk he decided to approach them.

All five of them tensed and got up as Fili stepped free of the darkness between the trees, but he held his arms out to show he was not bearing weapons.

“Might a weary traveller join your company at the fire?” He asked slowly.  
All five men sat down again and one extended his arm. “Step closer, Master dwarf. It's not often that one sees your kind wandering alone in these hills.”  
“My thanks.”Fili shrugged off his pack and sat down on the ground close to the fire. 

“Where are you from?” One of the men offered him a skin full of mead and Fili accepted it thankfully.  
“I am on my way to...” Fili wiped the back of his hand across his beard to gain him a second. “To get back home to my kin.”  
“Back home to the Blue Mountains?” The man smiled.   
“Yes, back home.” Fili made no attempt to hide the sorrow in his voice when he thought of home, and he could see a lot of nods and sympathetic expressions. 

He realised it felt good to have a little company again, even if it were men. Fili began to relax as he listened to one of them tell a story while he ate some bread and jerky, but he still wondered where the wolf was. It had to be close to midnight by now and he had been gone for two hours at least.

He was just about to take another sip of the meadskin when steps came crashing through the undergrowth and another man entered the clearing.

“Gerwin!” The one who had introduced himself as the leader of the hunters laughed at the young man. “That was one long...”  
“We got another!” The young man gestured excitedly. “I just heard it! It's one of the snares down south that Bander laid!”

“Snares?” A cold sense of foreboding crept down Fili's spine. “Snares?”  
“Yes.” One of the men took back the meadskin. “We hunt fur, not meat. Summer fur of wolf and lynx pays a fine price with the tanners and tailors.”  
“Snares...” Fili got up, his heart racing. “Mahal have mercy...”  
“What's wrong with snares?” The young man laughed.   
“Nothing is wrong with snares,” Fili gave back testily and slung his pack upon his back again. “Unless you happen to be travelling with a canine companion.”

The hunters exchanged some worried looks. “Let's check this,” their leader said.  
“But Hark, I know the difference between a dog and a wolf!” The young man protested.  
Fili pushed past him. “I am not travelling with a dog, friend.”

Fili followed the others towards the trail they had used to lay their snares, but first when he heard the sound of angry growling did he see the black wolf, his left hind leg caught in the snare. Fili's heart sank; he knew the nature of those snares, he had used them often enough himself. The taut wire cut deeply into the flesh and was impossible to shed. 

“Kili,” he said soothingly, cautiously approaching the wolf. He wasn't even sure if it really was Kili, but he was not leaving it to chance that fur hunters might kill his brother. “Kili, it's alright, I'm here now.”  
The wolf bared his teeth with a deep, frightening growl.  
“Yes, I know.” Fili slowly went down onto his knees and crawled towards the wolf. “I know it hurts. I can get you out of there.”

“Careful, dwarf!” One of the hunters yelled, frightening the wolf even more. He snapped at Fili and the sharp teeth caught in Fili's sleeve.  
“Stupid asses!”Fili hissed. “Stop yelling!”

The wolf growled again, hackles risen and teeth bared. Fili ignored the knot of fear from knowing that this animal, in his fear, could easily maim or kill him if he wasn't cautious. He might not be a normal wolf, but he was not nearly aware enough of himself to realise Fili was just there to help him.

“Kili,” he muttered in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Kili, _nadadith_ , come here, I'll help you.”  
The wolf was still growling, still baring his teeth. Fili reached out for him, very slowly and cautiously.   
“It's alright, brother. Please let me take care of you.” He reached out for the trapped leg, only to jerk his hand back hastily as the teeth of the wolf clicked together where seconds before his fingers had been.

“Sure it's the right wolf?” One of the men asked. 

Fili ignored him; a truly wild wolf would have attacked him long since, he was sure of that. “Brother.” He slowly reached out again, but for the head, this time. He offered the wolf his fingers to sniff at, and when he finally stopped growling upon recognising Fili's scent, Fili huffed in relief. “I'm sorry if I hurt you, brother, but we have to get that leg out of the snare.”

The wolf lowered himself down at the gentle pressure of Fili's hand and Fili moved towards the hind leg to inspect the damage. The wire had already cut deeply into the flesh and the paw and the ground around was sticky with blood. Fili cautiously tugged and prodded when he suddenly felt the wolf tense and growl again.

“Master Dwarf,” one of the hunters said. “That wolf is most likely too wounded to recover. It'll never walk again, most like. We take it down for you and pay you for the fur and more.”  
Fili bit down his anger. They had no way of knowing that this wolf wasn't just some sort of dog for him. “This wolf is my companion,” Fili gave back slowly as he tugged at the loop of the snare. “And I will not put him down unless I have to. Let his recovery not be any concern of yours.”  
“As you wish.” The man stepped back again, but at that moment, Fili had finally picked the end of the loop and could loosen the snare and remove it from the leg. 

The wolf immediately tried to get up, but fell back onto his belly with a high-pitched whine. 

“I told you it'd not walk again!” The man crossed his arms as Fili glared at him over his shoulder. “That leg's most likely broken in the joint! Put it down, for pity's sake! Don't make it suffer!”  
“Would you talk that way about your brother if it was him having stepped into a snare?”  
The man laughed. “Don't be ridiculous, man! Of course not. But that's just an animal!”  
“He's more than an animal to me,” Fili replied and ran his hand through the thick for on the wolf's flank.

“Beautiful fur,” another man said. 

Fili slowly looked up and reached for one of his swords.

“Keep your weapons sheathed, dwarf.” The leader of the hunters shot his companions a sour look. “A fur is not worth starting a war over. You know how these dwarves are.”  
“Maybe you should put your dog on a leash in the future,” another said to Fili. All friendliness and shared mead seemed forgotten. “Next time, he's ours.”  
“There will be no next time,” Fili muttered and looked at the wolf again. 

Behind him, the men vanished into the darkness, heading for their campsite to drink and, no doubt, to shake their heads about the sentimental dwarf. 

Fili refused to dwell any further on them and looked at the injured leg again. No, the wolf would most certainly not walk for a while, and neither would his brother. But what on earth was he supposed to do now? They needed someplace safe where they could stay until Kili was healed. But first, they had to get out of the cursed forest with its deadly snares. Fili pondered his options and then, with a shrug, put his hand under the wolf's chin to look into the amber eyes.

“I don't know how much you truly understand,” he said. “But I need to carry you out of here. That means I have to get you onto my back, and that will likely hurt. I'd prefer not to have my head bitten off for my efforts, aye?”

Not waiting any longer he then shoved his hands under the furred body and heaved the animal onto his back atop the pack, without being bitten. He almost couldn't get back onto his feet at first with the weight of the wolf in addition to the pack and felt the straps of the pack dig painfully into his shoulders when he finally began to walk again. 

But as he stepped free of the thinning undergrowth he realised another thing: there were only a few hours left until daylight, and if he hadn't found a safe place before then, his brother would be left wounded and helpless and alone in open country; there were no caves in these gently rolling hills.

But after a moment, he realised that he was looking at the faraway lights of what had to be a distant settlement to the south. A smile appeared on his face when he realised what that meant, and that if he could make it there before sunrise, that there would indeed be a safe place for them. 

He began to walk as swiftly as he could, and as the ground levelled out more, he walked even faster, almost but not quite jogging to avoid jostling the wounded wolf too much. That the wolf on his back did indeed not complain about this treatment worried Fili a great deal, and he could only wonder what the damage really was and how much blood Kili had lost being caught in that snare.

He doubled his efforts, the weight of his pack cutting into his shoulders and back, but he ignored the discomfort and forced himself to walk faster and faster, ignoring the pain in his legs, the fire in his back and the sweat stinging in his eyes. He kept staring south, at the lights of the small town that came closer agonizingly slow. 

It was when Fili noticed that in the east the horizon began to turn grey that he took the wolf paws that dangled down before his shoulders in his hands to hold on to the wolf and steady him, mindful of the injured leg, and began to run.   
His legs almost didn't obey him anymore and a painful stitch in his sides joined all the other discomforts. Fili gritted his teeth and focussed on his breathing.

He was so winded he could hardly breathe anymore and his legs felt as if he had been wading through boiling water when he finally reached the outskirts of Hobbiton, and with the first light he was staggering up the finely gravelled paths with the pressure of imminent change already taking hold of his limbs. He reached the small gate with the last bit of strength and collapsed on the doorstep directly in front of the green round door, dropping the wolf and then his pack with a groan. He managed to hit the door a single time with his fist after tearing off his tunic and shirt before his consciousness left him. 

Bilbo, always an early riser, frowned towards the general direction of the door at the sound of someone knocking, or rather, kicking the door with a boot by the sound of it. He stared at his freshly brewed cup of tea and with a somewhat angry frown, headed towards the door and opened it.

To find a naked dwarf lying on his doorstep, left leg covered in blood down from the knee. Beside him was a pack and a heap of clothes. 

Bilbo folded the forefinger again that he had been about to stick into the face of whoever it was daring to disturb him at this hour and wrinkled his nose. Then he knelt down and cautiously turned the dwarf around.

“Kili?” He looked around, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open, then looked back at the dwarf who was just emitting a low groan with fluttering eyelids. “What in the name of the Valar have you gotten yourself into?”

Shaking his head, Bilbo closed his arms around Kili's shoulders and dragged the dwarf inside his hall, then quickly gathered up the boots and clothing as well as the pack before hastily closing and locking the door.

* * *

It was a good thing Bilbo always had some guest rooms ready, and after he had settled Kili down in one of these he now sat on a stool beside that bed and carefully cleaned the wound around Kili's ankle that looked as if he had stepped into a snare. 

“What on earth have you done with yourself?” Bilbo muttered as he carefully dabbed the wound with a cloth. “You're... you're Kili the dwarf, you don't step into someone's snares. Or your own, for that matter. And where is your brother, care to tell? You two are pot and kettle, what's one doing here in the Shire without the other?”

He didn't really expect an answer and was mildly startled when he heard the low chuckle come from the other end of the bed.

“Master Burglar.”   
Bilbo looked up and gave Kili a stern look along his nose.   
“It's good to see you,” Kili said weakly. He was pale, and Bilbo could guess by looking at the wound that it must have been bleeding awfully.  
“Well, as good as it is to see you, I have to say that you dwarves are terribly creative in showing up at my doorsteps at unexpected times and in unexpected...” He waved his hand about to indicate the whole outrage of lying naked next to a heap of clothes on his doorstep, “... circumstances.”  
Kili closed his eyes again. “Master Baggins, I will gladly explain everything,” he said hoarsely. “But please, can I have some water first?”

Bilbo blinked and looked up, then nodded and helped Kili to sit up before offering him a cup that he refilled from a pitcher three times before Kili handed it back to him with a grateful nod.

“Master Baggins,” Kili began, his voice low. Bilbo could see how drained and tired he was. “I don't know what happened last night, but it's clear that we need a place to stay until I'm healed.”  
“We?” Bilbo looked around. “And you can't remember stepping into a snare?”  
Kili lifted his left leg with a hiss to inspect the wound. “Looks like a snare to me, all right.”  
“Well it is no wonder you couldn't remember, you were lying on my doorstep face-down and stark naked.”

Kili met the hobbit's eyes, but there was no mirth in them, only a bone-deep tiredness, a weariness that struck Bilbo far worse than any physical injury could have. Kili's eyes, always so full of joy and mirth and mischief, should not look like those of an old man having seen too many wars.

“It's... it is hard to explain. My brother and I we have...” Kili closed his eyes for a moment. “We have been cursed,” he then said, staring at his hands.   
“Cursed?” Bilbo tilted his head, a deep frown forming on his forehead. “Cursed how?”  
Kili looked up again. “I don't know how and why, I only know that it's...”  
“But...” Bilbo ran both hands through his hair, making it stand on edge. “But where is your brother?”

Kili swallowed and gritted his teeth. “I suggest you open the window.”  
“The wi... what?” Bilbo extended a warning forefinger at the dwarf in his guest bed. “If this is some kind of dwarf prank...”  
“It is no prank, Bilbo,” Kili said, meeting his eyes again. “Open the window.”

Bilbo nodded, got up and opened the window. He gave Kili a questioning look while crossing his arms, only to jump back with a squeal when a reddish-brown shadow hissed past him. The startled hobbit slowly turned towards the bed again to see a hawk sitting on the headrest, staring at him with amber eyes.

“That is my brother,” Kili said slowly and in a heavy voice. “He turns into a hawk at day. And I turn into a wolf at night. We are trying to find Gandalf to see if he can help us.”

Bilbo looked back and forth between Kili and the hawk before slowly heading back towards the small stool at the foot end of Kili's bed. He sat down, looked at the dwarf and the bird of prey and took a deep breath.   
Kili was staring at the hawk with such pain in his eyes that Bilbo couldn't watch it; he lowered his eyes and studied the wood grain of the floorboards. He would have believed this to be a prank had he not seen the way Kili looked at the hawk that supposedly was his brother. After a moment, he looked up again, meeting Kili's eyes.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like. Gandalf promised me to come by every now and then, and I can only say this would be a really good time to make good on that promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

Bilbo had fussed over Kili a little more before he had left the wounded dwarf to sort out his thoughts. 

Supper was now almost ready and Bilbo's thoughts were far from being sorted, but as usual preparing food had calmed his mind and he was beginning to approach the problem with a bit of common hobbit-sense. 

Gandalf had to be informed of this for sure, but Kili had told him that Lord Elrond of Rivendell was helping with that. That was nothing a hobbit could help with anyway.

Then the two young dwarves needed a safe place to stay until Kili was healed at least; that was something Bilbo could help with and would help with. He wasn't really sure about how to deal with a wolf in his hobbit hole, though – a wounded wolf, no less – but he hoped a solution would present itself.

Until further notice he kept the door to the guestroom shut and would not enter it either between dusk and dawn. A short glance out of the window told him it was past dusk now so according to Kili's words Fili would be back by now. 

Bilbo lifted his head with a smile as he heard the door to the guest room open.

“Good evening! Fili, is it? Supper is ready!”

A very confused and only half-dressed Fili stuck his head around the corner and peeked into the dining room. His face lit up into pure delight when he recognised the hobbit.

“Bilbo!” Fili dropped the shirt he had clenched in his hands and hurried towards the stove. “So I did choose the right one!”  
Bilbo tilted his head. “Right one?”  
“The right door.” Fili picked up his shirt again. “I was in... in a hurry when I came here this morning and I was only hoping I got the right door. Things happened in a blur...”  
“I can imagine.” Bilbo ladled stew from the kettle into two bowls that he then carried to the table where a basket of bread already sat.

“I had a conversation with your brother,” Bilbo began after he had sat down. “So I know, more or less, what the matter is.”  
Fili stared into his bowl and stirred the stew, rich and meaty with potatoes and carrots and a fragrant scent of rosemary and thyme. Without having tasted, he looked up at Bilbo. “Is Kili all right?”  
“I gather,” Bilbo replied. “Was that a snare he stepped in?”

Fili nodded and tried a spoonful of stew. His face lit up and he busied himself with eating for a moment, watched by a satisfied Bilbo. 

“Since when have you been on the road?” Bilbo chuckled. “Living on jerky and bread?”  
“It's not that I mind wayfarer's food.” Fili took a piece of the bread. “But a hobbit's cooking is a pleasure after all that time.”  
“So, how long?”  
Fili looked up again and his smile vanished. “Since mid-spring.”

“Was mid-spring when... that...” He gestured at nothing in specific but Fili knew what he meant of course, “... happened?”  
Fili chewed his bread, swallowed and nodded. “On our way back from Minas Tirith.” Then he frowned.  
“Minas Tirith?” Bilbo put his spoon down. “Diplomacy, I presume?”  
“Yes.” Fili was still frowning. “And we had reached Mirkwood when it happened for the first time.”  
“Have you spoken to the Mirkwood Elves?”

Fili shook his head and blinked before meeting Bilbo's eyes again. “Yes, of course. Thranduil has never heard of anything like this happening before.”  
“Too bad. It would have been too easy a solution, I guess.”  
Fili stirred in his stew. “We've been to Rivendell, too. Lord Elrond couldn't help us either; but he cast some sort of elfish magic to make the beasts tamer around people. I guess that makes us staying here a little easier.”

Bilbo looked over his shoulder. “Kili advised me to have the bedroom door closed in case the wolf would be... unhappy at being trapped in an enclosed space while being wounded.”  
Fili smiled, with a deep sadness clouding his eyes. “He is fine. The wolf, I mean. He is sitting in the doorway.”

Bilbo turned in his seat and only now noticed the black wolf sitting in the darkness of the hall. “Oh,” he said. “Uhm. Would you like to join us?”  
“Come in, brother,” Fili said. “You have no enemies here and nothing to fear.”

The wolf limped towards him, a wobbling, three-legged gait to favour the wounded paw. After a mildly interested glance at Bilbo he carefully lowered himself down and curled up in front of the fireplace.

“Would he want some stew, do you think?” Bilbo gave Fili a questioning look.   
“I'm sure he wouldn't mind being fed.” Fili smiled down at the wolf and sighed. “He usually hunts for himself.”  
Bilbo got up and filled another bowl with stew that he carefully sat down in front of the wolf. The amber eyes followed his every move, and only after Bilbo had sat down again did the wolf stir and after sampling the contents of the bowl, began to happily devour the stew.

For a while they ate in silence before Bilbo put the spoon down again. “Say,” he began. “How much of that wolf is actually your brother? Do you know?”  
Fili swallowed and shrugged. “Not much. He acts like an animal, not like a dwarf in animal skin. If it is for him as it is for me, then he won't have any memories either, from when he was in animal form. I don't remember being a hawk; there only a few faint memories of flying; a few shadows of feelings that are hard to name.”

Bilbo nodded. “And you have no idea what might have caused all this?”  
“No,” Fili replied, but the deep frown was suddenly back. “Thranduil was sure that nothing in Mirkwood could not have caused it, Elrond said something about this reminding him of the dark magic of Mordor.” He shrugged.   
“And do you think your brother might know?”  
Fili looked up at the hobbit, his eyes burning with pain. “I haven't spoken a word to him since that cursed day at the East Bight! We change together, we have no chance of talking most times we can't even get a look at each other!”  
Bilbo lifted his eyebrows. “Yes, but what about notes?”  
Fili froze and blinked like an owl. “What?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and looked towards the ceiling. “Well I guess you didn't think of this,” he said. “Just thinking of how much you want to talk to him that you forgot you might just write him a letter.”  
Fili was still gobsmacked. “Write?”  
“Yes, write.” Bilbo made a writing motion with his hand. “You know, quill, ink paper, that sort of thing?”

“I know what writing is...” Fili ran a hand through his hair. “I just...”  
“Well, I can excuse that you didn't think of this,” Bilbo replied and removed his napkin. “But an educated elf like Elrond should have had this insight, in my humble opinion. Come with me.”

Fili got up and followed the hobbit as if he was the greatest puzzle in Middle Earth.

“Here, my study,” Bilbo said. “Desk, paper, quills, ink. It's all yours, now go and sit down and write your brother a letter and he can write one back to you. To think that not even Lord Elrond thought of this!” He threw his hands up and tsked. “Elves!”

Fili looked at the hobbit and felt a slow smile spread on his face. “Mahal bless you, Master Hobbit,” he said slowly. “Thank you. I can't thank you enough.”

Bilbo snorted under his breath with a twitching nose. He wordlessly gestured at the desk. 

With a smile, Fili sat down, then he stared for a moment at the empty parchment. He slowly reached for a quill, dipped it in the ink, and took a deep breath. 

Bilbo watched him, leaning into the door frame. Fili's shoulders were hunched, but as he began to write he began also visibly began to relax. With a smile to himself Bilbo went back to his dining room where he treated himself, and the wolf, to a second helping of stew.

* * *

Kili woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast. He swung his legs out of the bed and gingerly tried if he could put weight on his left leg; upon discovering he could he put on shirt and trousers and limped out of the room, following the smell of eggs and bacon.

“Good morning!” Bilbo greeted the young dwarf cheerfully. “I see your leg is getting better! You dwarves certainly heal fast.”  
“Yes,” Kili replied and sat down, stretching his leg out with a wince. “Not as fast as I would like.”  
“Breakfast will help,” Bilbo said and piled some eggs and bacon onto the plate in front of Kili. The dwarf thanked him with a smile.

“Now,” Bilbo said after he had sat down to join him. “The wolf was very well behaved and very fond of my oxtail stew, if I may say so. I think we won't have any problems living here together for a while.”  
“I should be able to travel within a few more days,” Kili said and busied himself with eggs. It had been ages since he had eggs and fried bacon for breakfast.  
“I was more thinking of when Gandalf finally gets wind of our problem and decides to move his lazy magical behind toward the Shire.”  
Kili snorted and got a crumb down the wrong way.

Bilbo waited until Kili had dislodged the piece of egg from his windpipe and the coughing had calmed down. 

“The way I see it he is the only one who can help you, and if Elrond has gotten word out then he surely knows already. He only needs to know where to go, and this is where I come in. I will go to Bree tomorrow and send word that Gandalf is wanted in Hobbiton, Bag End, and if there is word getting out for Gandalf he will hear it. He told me so himself. Only if he will listen to it is another matter entirely, or how long it will take him to listen to it. Rest assured, though, that I will do my best to help you.”

Kili put down his fork and stared onto his empty plate. “We are forever in your debt for your helpfulness and kindness, Bilbo.”  
“Oh please.” Bilbo smiled and patted Kili's hand. “I consider myself your friend, and that's what friends do. If I was in peril and came to Erebor, you would do no less, wouldn't you?”  
Kili smiled again. “We sure would.”  
“So there.” Bilbo leaned back with a smile. “And when you've finished eating, then there's something waiting for you in my study.”  
Kili lifted one eyebrow.

“I gather the thought has eluded you as well since not even the educated Lord Elrond thought about this, but trust a hobbit to have some common sense, no matter the circumstances.” Bilbo hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. “Your brother and you both have complained about not being able to talk to each other, but that's no reason not to communicate. So if you will go to my study, there will be a letter from your brother for you, and feel free to use all the paper you want to write him one in return.”

Kili stared at the hobbit for a long while, face scrunched up in utter confusion. Then suddenly his face lit up and he jumped up so fast that he almost fell over when he forgot about his injured leg. Bilbo offered him help and supported Kili on his way towards the study. 

Even before he could read the letter he could recognise his brother’s writing; the runes so square and neat and the lines so straight and so unlike Kili's chicken scratchings. Tears were blurring his vision as he sat down and he was only dimly aware of Bilbo leaving and discreetly closing the door behind him. 

He ran his hands across the edges of the sheet, then wiped his eyes and focused on the runes.

_Nadadith_

_Bless the hobbit and his wisdom. I have no idea why I have not thought of this, and I think Bilbo is right when he says that Elrond should have. But as it is, I finally can share my mind with you again._

_I guess I don't need to tell you how much I miss you. How incomplete I feel without you by my side, and how painful it is to have you there, just within reach, and yet as far away from me as the moon. Because I am sure that you feel the same._

_I do not know what happened. I have no idea what has caused this, who might have cursed us and why. I feel helpless, angry, despairing. It tore my heart asunder to watch mother and Thorin and make my farewell to them when all I wanted was to come home with you._

_I cannot tell you how grateful I am for Bilbo's help. At least we have a safe place to stay now and you can heal. The wolf stepped into a snare, brother, as you might have guessed. But I needed to face down the hunters who wanted to buy the wolf for his fur and compensate me with money. How could I tell them that it was you, my brother? They could not understand why I would not part with a wounded animal._

_I am afraid, brother. Travelling with a wolf through settled country is dangerous, and I do not know how I can keep you safe. Sure, the wolf can defend himself, but he has no chance against a hunter's bow. I am afraid that I will never hear my Kili's voice again or see his eyes sparkle with laughter._

_The nights, brother, are very cold, and very lonely. But it is not only your body I think of, it is you, your company, your laughter, your smile. I feel as if a piece of my soul has been torn away from me and it is a wound that will never heal unless you are restored to me._

_You are and will always be my greatest treasure, Kili._

_F_

Kili wiped his eyes again as his fingers caressed the runes his brother's hands had written. He picked up the quill.

_Nadad_

_Reading the words your hands had written was like hearing your voice again after so long a time. You know I am not as good with words as you are, and I do not know if I can put my thoughts down as you can._

_I just miss you so much. Every day without you hurts. I watch the hawk circle above, but even when he is sitting on my arm I cannot reach you, brother. It hurts. It drives me mad._

_When we have finally found the one responsible for this it will be a great pleasure to kill them. I want revenge for every day and every hour I was forced to be without you even though I know nothing can bring back these days._

_I would give everything, brother, everything to have you restored to me. I would give my right arm, my left leg, my eyes, my hair and beard, my balls, everything I would give without a moment's hesitation if it would bring you back to me._

_But no one comes and asks these things of me, and I am forced to go on without you. I was never meant to be without you. You have always been there. To have you not be there is so wrong it hurts. It hurts me and I find myself crying like a dwarfling sometimes. I know I should be strong and bear my fate, but sometimes, it all gets too much. I know I should not trouble you with this, but I know I can trust you with every weakness of mine._

_I pray to every Valar that Gandalf can help us. I do not know what to do if he cannot._

_Maybe we can meet in our dreams. I miss you._

_K_

Bilbo tactfully pretended not to notice Kili's red eyes and wet cheeks as he helped him out of the study and back to bed in the guest room. He fortified the young dwarf with tea and a platter of biscuits, scones and shortbreads, and left him to his grief.

After settling down on his bench outside for a pipe Bilbo lit himself a pipe and watched the clouds disperse with a frown. Below, the busy life of Hobbiton went on unaware of the tragic events behind the door of Bag End. 

Hearing the piercing shriek of a bird of prey Bilbo looked up to see a large red hawk circle above the tree shading Bag End, and a cold shudder crept down his spine.


	12. Chapter 12

Fili and Kili had been staying in Bag End for two weeks; even after Kili’s leg was fully healed Bilbo refused to let them go.

“You could spend years running about the countryside looking for Gandalf,” he had said to Kili the morning the dwarf had suggested they’d leave. “I’ve been to Bree, and Elrond has sent word, and you will stay in one place until he has found you as it is pretty pointless, I might say, to try and find him.”

Kili had agreed, and that evening, Bilbo told Fili the same. No, he wasn’t tired of having them as guests and he was happy to help. Fili had thanked him quietly and the waiting had continued.

Until the day that someone knocked at the door as Bilbo was just fishing the boiled eggs out of the kettle.

“This had better be someone important,” the Hobbit muttered to himself. “A particular someone, to be precise.” He opened the door and stared at a long, grey robe.

“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf bend down to peek through the door, a worried expression on his face. “Whatever is the matter? I am on my way to Rivendell, in fact, but then word reached me that you needed my help here?”  
Bilbo stood aside and bade him to come in. “Thank goodness,” he said. “And you can spare yourself the journey to Rivendell, as the reason Elrond sent for you is residing in my guestroom.”  
Gandalf lifted his eyebrows and carefully straightened up after Bilbo had closed the door behind him.

Gandalf leaned onto his staff with a frown. “I would appreciate it if you would explain yourself.”  
“You see...” Bilbo began, but he was cut short by the door of the guest room flying open.

Both Bilbo and Gandalf spun around to see a half-dressed Kili storming out, hair wild and unruly, eyes wide. He staggered down the hallway and landed on his knees in front of the wizard, grabbing the hem of his robe.

“Help us, Gandalf!” Kili stared up at him, his eyes already filling with tears. “Help us! We are cursed, you must help us! Please, Gandalf, you are our only hope! Help us!”  
“Kili...” Gandalf said, and exchanged a worried glance with the hobbit. “Whatever...”  
“Please!” Kili begged, tugging at the robes. “No one else could help us, please say you can help!”  
“If you would stop begging and start explaining, Master Dwarf, then maybe I could!”

Kili got onto his feet again and wiped the back of his hand across his face. “My brother and I,” he began after a deep breath. “We have been cursed. I don’t know how else to explain it. He... Fili turns into a hawk with every sunrise. And I become a wolf...” Kili swallowed. “A wolf with sunset.”  
Gandalf’s bushy eyebrows rose very slowly into his hairline.   
“It happened when we were on our way home from Gondor,” Kili went on, looking up at the wizard. “We made camp in the East Bight, and it happened, and it never stops... and we can’t even remember being animals...” He broke off and took a step back. “Please say you can help us.”

Gandalf took a very slow, very deep breath. “My dear Kili,” he said slowly. “I can understand your anguish, but I am sure you understand when I say that...”  
“But you are going to help them?” Bilbo interjected sharply. “You are, aren’t you?”  
“Bilbo Baggins, I am sure I don’t have to remind you that...”  
“That you are a wizard and a guardian of Middle Earth?” Arms Akimbo, Bilbo rocked on his heels. “Well, according to Kili and Fili Lord Elrond said it reminded him of the dark magic of Mordor!”  
“Well whatever it is, and as sorry as I am to hear of their fate...” Gandalf shook his head, speaking gently as if the hobbit was a dim-witted child, “...I am sure you understand that I can’t tamper...”

Kili looked back and forth between the two with anxious eyes. 

“Understand what?” Bilbo’s ears turned red. “That you are going to ignore them for the sake of what?” He thrust out a forefinger into Gandalf’s face, a feat made easier by the fact that the wizard was forced to stoop. “You of all people who meddle in all sorts of affairs!”  
“I beg your pardon...?”  
“No!” Bilbo’s cheeks flushed, too. “No pardon, you just listen to me, Gandalf! Saying you don’t meddle... tamper... how dare you! Given a map and a key to pass it on to the rightful owner of these things and holding on to them for how long? As long as you saw fit, then stirring up a handful of dwarves with no help and backup whatsoever, sending them on a mission with the map and key you withheld from them until it suited you...”  
“Bilbo, I did so because it was necessary!”

“For you!” Bilbo threw both his arms upward. “But not for the dwarves! And then instead of aiding them to get a proper expedition together you let them on with no more than a dozen, picking up a hobbit on the way of all...”  
“Don’t tell me it did not work out...” Gandalf began, but Bilbo had no intention of being interrupted.  
“Thirteen dwarves and a hobbit! And it worked out, miraculously, but no thanks to you! At every turn and angle you chose to abandon us, and there was truly only one time where you were of use and that was after the Goblin Tunnels! Where were you when the dwarves were captured in Mirkwood? Where were you when we were stranded in Lake Town? Where were you when they tried to take on the Dragon? Where were you when Thorin was struck down by the gold sickness? And don’t tell me you had no idea because I heard you talk to that about Lord Elrond in Rivendell!”

“Bilbo,” Gandalf began, and his voice was by now holding an undertone of warning.  
“No, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just wandering about and you were standing openly on a balcony, and Thorin just so happened to stand beside me and he heard it too.” Bilbo had still his forefinger thrust into Gandalf’s face. “You go and meddle with the lives of dwarves and lead them into such peril that it’s a miracle any of them have survived! You knew about the pale orc too, and you didn’t see fit to tell Thorin about it! Complaining Thorin was too stubborn to answer to anyone damn right he wasn’t! He was even then the heir to an independent kingdom what makes you or Elrond think he should answer to you? With what right do you think to know better than a King what is right for his kingdom and his people?”

“In what regard should I see then, the reckless act of entering the mountain without me, Bilbo Baggins? I specifically asked them not to, and see where that led to? Lake Town destroyed and so many people dead...”  
“Yes, of course, but wasn’t waking the dragon part of the plan? Where were you, Gandalf, when the door needed opening? You weren’t there, away on more important affairs, and what should we have done? Wait a year for the next Durin’s Day out in the wilderness because you were off on errands more important than the fate of a kingdom? But I was there, Gandalf, and I saw that the dwarves all risked their lives to vanquish the dragon and if you hadn’t chosen to abandon them to whatever else was more important than a rampaging dragon, the destruction of Laketown wouldn’t have happened!”

Gandalf crossed his arms and frowned down at Bilbo, usually a frightening sight but Bilbo had talked himself into such anger that he failed to notice. Kili had taken a step back and looked back and forth between the wizard and the hobbit, seemingly unable to decide whether to laugh or to bolt.

“You used the King of dwarves like a pawn in your game to get rid of Smaug without wasting a second to think about the welfare or the concerns of his people, treating them like witless children who have no understandings of their own wants and needs, regarding them useful only as cheap sacrifices in your plans for Middle Earth that seemingly only concern the important races and not the dwarves and tell me Gandalf without their labour, how would affairs of wealth and warfare look in Middle Earth? How can you treat them so patronizing, so dismissive, so... so... how can you give them so little respect for what they are and what they achieved! And if you don’t think you should help them because you owe them a favour in return then do so because you have a heart, Gandalf!”

Bilbo’s chest was heaving as he stared up at Gandalf. He was trembling.  
Gandalf looked down at the furious hobbit with an expression on his face that was impossible to read.

“Bilbo,” Kili said hesitantly into the heavy silence. “Gandalf...?”

“Tea.” Bilbo tugged at Gandalf’s sleeve. “We’ll have a cup of tea and then we talk things through. I might have been a little too agitated.”

Gandalf looked down at Kili, and the frown on his face softened out a little. “I think tea would be a good idea right now,” he said.

* * *

Kili had not been able to provide more information, and even after Gandalf had watched him change into a wolf the wizard was none the wiser. 

Shortly after that, Fili emerged from the guestroom, and upon spotting Gandalf, he, too, fell onto his knees in front of him begging him to help them. Gandalf shot an uncomfortable look at Bilbo and took a deep breath of his pipe.

“Now here, Master Fili. Sit down here and explain properly.”  
“I don’t know what to explain.” Fili shrugged helplessly, and he could only repeat what Kili had already told them.

Gandalf nodded and stared thoughtfully at the smoke from his pipe. “Gondor, you say. What was your business in Gondor, may I ask?”  
Fili shrugged. “Diplomacy. Thorin sent me and my brother there as princes to begin negotiation for a treaty.”  
Gandalf nodded again. “So you have been in Minas Tirith.”  
Fili blinked slowly. “Yes... we have.”

Gandalf put his pipe down and gave Fili a sharp look. “What happened in Minas Tirith?”  
Fili met his eyes and shrugged again. “We were made welcome by the Steward of Gondor, we spent a few days negotiating. On our last day Kili and I explored the city and went to the market to buy some gifts, and the next morning we left again.”  
“And that is all that has happened?” The wizard narrowed his eyes.  
Fili blinked nervously. “I can’t rememb...” He shook his head like a wet dog. “There was...”  
“Yes?”  
Fili stared up at him helplessly. “I met a woman and...”

Gandalf lifted one eyebrow and slowly reached out to touch Fili’s forehead. The dwarf closed his eyes and suddenly gasped as if in pain.

“Gandalf?” Bilbo leaned forward nervously.

“My dear Fili,” Gandalf said slowly as the dwarf opened his eyes again. “It seems something, or someone, has meddled with your memory.”  
Fili paled.  
“Think again.” Gandalf looked into Fili’s eyes. “Think again; What happened?”

Fili stared at nothing and his eyes began to widen. “Someone... I was approached by a man from Harad. His mistress wanted to see me. She wanted... she wanted...” He blushed furiously and a few lines appeared on his forehead. “She wanted me. I refused. She was married and I am promised but she wouldn’t hear of it...” He looked up at Gandalf and his eyes suddenly filled with tears. “It was her! It was her! She said curse you and your love! She told me our next kiss would be our last! It was her who cursed us and it was my fault!”  
“No, Fili.” Gandalf laid a hand on his arm. “You did what was right. The curse was entirely her fault, but now at least we know where it came from. Just one thing... she spoke of your love, but what has that to do with your brother?”

Fili trembled and looked at Gandalf as if he hadn’t understood a word the wizard had said. 

“He’s my... he is my everything,” he said after a while, his voice rough with pain. “He is the part of my soul that is missing, he makes me complete. And I am the same for him. We are one soul in two bodies. How can I love anyone but him?”  
“I see,” Gandalf said slowly.  
“Gandalf?” Bilbo asked, deeply confused. “They’re brothers...?”  
“Bilbo...” Gandalf smiled gently. “Relationships between siblings are regarded entirely different amongst dwarves than it is customary with other races.”  
Bilbo blinked a few times. “I see,” he finally said and mustered a smile for Fili. 

“Then the solution is quite simple,” Gandalf said. “You must go back to Minas Tirith and find that woman. I am sure there is a way to force or persuade her to undo what she has done.”  
“But what if she won’t?” Fili wring his hands. “What if she refuses?”  
“Gandalf, we are dealing with more than a witch here...” Bilbo began.  
“We?” Gandalf asked, looking at the hobbit under raised eyebrows.   
Bilbo ignored that remark. “I am sure it would be a better idea to have a wizard at hand when dealing with the likes of her. Elrond said this magic reminded him of the black magic of Mordor, after all.”  
“Yes, you mentioned as much already,” Gandalf said. “Fili, what exactly did Elrond say?”

Fili scratched his head and tried to recall the words as exactly as possible. He told Gandalf of Elrond’s concerns and of his allegory about the apple, the leaf and the apple tree.

“I see,” Gandalf said. “I need to think about this.”  
Fili swallowed hard. “But you will help us?”  
“I said, I need to think.”  
Fili exchanged a hopeless glance with Bilbo.  
“I gather for now it is best we get some rest and then look at things refreshed and after breakfast in the morning.”  
“I won’t be here at breakfast,” Fili said tersely.  
“But your brother will be, Fili.” Gandalf busied himself with his pipe. “Go get some rest, both of you.”

Fili gritted his teeth and, after a moment, spun around on his heels.

* * *

Bilbo had slept fitfully and was awake again with the first grey of dawn. He sighed and left his bed, to find Gandalf still sitting where he had left him the night before. He silently puttered around his kitchen to make some tea. On his way to the pantry he passed the guest room, the door standing ajar. He peeked inside and his shoulders drooped in sadness.

Fili was lying in the bed curled up next to the black wolf, his arm slung around him and fingers buried into the fur. Dimly, Bilbo heard steps behind him as he watched the first rays of morning light fall through the window to touch the black fur. 

The fur began to vanish and Fili opened his eyes. Bilbo held his breath.

The fur was gone now, and Kili opened his eyes to look at his brother. Their eyes met, and with his heart sinking in pain Bilbo watched them, as they stared at each other, cautiously reaching out. But just as their fingers were about to touch the sunshine fell onto Fili, and even as Kili darted forward his brother was gone and the hawk beat his wings to vanish out of the open window with a shriek. All this had taken no longer than a few heartbeats.

Kili stared at the empty space in the bed before him, where his brother had just vanished. He tenderly ran his fingers over the hollow in the pillow, and suddenly he arched up, punched the mattress with both fists and let out a scream of such utter agony that it made Bilbo shudder and his eyes began to burn.

Helplessly he watched as Kili crawled under the other blanket, still warm from his brother’s body, and bedded his head into the dent in the pillow where Fili’s head had been, running his fingers down the pillow as if he was caressing a lover.

Behind him, Gandalf sighed. “We will go to Minas Tirith tomorrow. We leave after sunrise.”

Bilbo nodded, pain mingling with relief.


	13. Chapter 13

“I am glad that you decided to help them, Gandalf.” Bilbo looked up at the wizard with a smile. “And that you have forgiven me the welcome speech I gave you.”  
Gandalf looked down with a cocked eyebrow. “It was a sight to behold.” He cleared his throat. “But if Elrond thinks this sort of magic may have a connection to Mordor then I will have to look into this.”

They were well on their way to Bree by now. To both Kili’s and Gandalf’s surprise Bilbo had readied a pack as well. 

Dwarves and wizards don’t mix well, he had said. I wouldn’t have a minute of peace left so I might as well come along to pour oil on troubled waters.

Their journey had been uneventful; but for Bilbo it only added to the pain of seeing the two brothers suffering. It was one thing to see them and to know what was happening to them, and quite another to see them deal with the change every morning and evening. They had grown so accustomed to it that for them, it had become a part of their life. To Bilbo, it was still a grievous thing to watch.

They now waited for nightfall as the sun was already hanging low in the sky when they were approaching Bree and neither of them thought it a good idea to let the change happen where it might be observed by superstitious simple minds. Gandalf advised against Fili accompanying them into Bree.

“It’s because of the wolf,” he said in as friendly a manner as possible. “He is, after all, a wild animal, even if he acts tame.”  
“He doesn’t act tame, he is tame,” Fili replied and buried his left hand into the thick fur at the back of the wolf’s neck. “Elrond said so himself.”  
“Be that as it may,” Gandalf replied. “But do the people in Bree know that?”  
Fili lowered his eyes. 

“Well, maybe,” Bilbo interjected. “Maybe you could somehow... I don’t know, give him something so people could see his is, indeed, tame?”  
Fili looked up and his eyes were burning with fury. “I will not put a collar on my brother!”  
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Bilbo hastened to add. “It was just a suggestion, something like it would make travelling with a wolf so much easier...”  
Fili took a deep breath, but his face was still as if carved from stone.  
“Not something as... as crude as a collar,” Bilbo went on. “Maybe a pendant of some sorts?”

Fili’s shoulders dropped. “Forgive me,” he said in a very low voice. “I know I need to make allowances to get through this all, but the indignity of...” He hesitated. “A pendant, you say?”  
Bilbo tried to smile as innocently as possible. 

Fili let go of the fur and went down in a crouch beside the pack. He dug into it, rummaged around in it for a while and finally produced a small package wrapped in leather bound together with a leather string. He undid the knot, but in the approaching darkness Bilbo could not see more than a faint metallic shimmer. 

When Fili stood up again, he showed him: He had threaded the beads he had worn in his hair and beard onto the leather string. It had the right length to fit around the wolf’s neck; the animal sniffed curiously at the string and Fili’s fingers as the dwarf tied a reliable knot into the string. The silver of the beads contrasted sharply with the black fur, and while it was surely a mark of domestication, it was indefinitely better than a collar, and Bilbo said so.

“I know.” Fili ran his hand through the thick, black fur again, trying to smile. “It makes the humiliation a little easier to bear.”  
“It makes survival easier,” Gandalf said gently. “Any hunter will at least pause and think before shooting him.”

Fili nodded mutely, his eyes resting on the wolf.

* * *

As much as it had griped Fili to put a mark on the wolf who was his brother he had to admit that dealing with people was a lot easier if he didn’t have to constantly assure people that the animal was tame; docile unless threatened.  
They had acquired three ponies and a few more necessities for their journey and had left Bree again to camp in the woods. 

With sunrise, Kili peeled himself out of the fur his brother had wrapped him in before he had undressed himself, and watched the hawk sitting on the branch of a nearby tree sorting his feathers. Then he frowned and looked down at himself.

“Why am I wearing my brother’s beads as a necklace?”

Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a hasty glance.

“It’s a mark of...” Bilbo began. “It was to.... I mean, it made it easier for people to believe it when we said the wolf was tame.” He smiled nervously at the young dwarf.

Kili looked at the hobbit, tilted his head, and looked back down at the beads resting against his collarbone. Then he snorted. “A collar.”  
“I wouldn’t call it that!” Bilbo said hastily.  
But Kili was grinning. “A collar. But a nice collar.” He ran his fingers over the beads. “I like it. I guess Fili was not so fond of the idea.”  
“He was absolutely furious at first.” Bilbo shrugged and wrinkled his nose. “But he had to admit it had its merits.”  
“Tell him I don’t mind,” Kili said with a wistful smile. “Tell him that as long as it’s made of something that is his, I don’t mind wearing any sort of collar.”

Bilbo looked at his feet and Gandalf sighed as he shoved some dirt over the embers of their fire.

* * *

Their weeks on the North-South Road passed uneventful to the point of boredom. Occasionally they met travellers and once even a group of dwarven merchants who were on their way home to the Blue Mountains after trading with kin in Ered Nimrais; they were not of the people who had been familiar with the people from Erebor and thus had no means to recognise Kili. Kili wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, but he couldn’t have made and shared camp with them anyway. Gandalf had advised against letting more people know about their curse and Kili thought it prudent to follow that advice.

Gandalf himself spent many a morning and evening watching the brothers’ change, but as much as he smoked and wrecked his brain, he still had no idea. Bilbo’s plea of trying to break the spell with his own magic had not met his approval.

“I am still not sure what exactly this magic entails, Bilbo.” Gandalf lowered his pipe. “Believe me, I am as eager as you are to set them free, but I will not use magic to break this curse by force until I know exactly what to expect. I might try it, yes. But chances are that while it will break the curse it may lock the brothers in the state they are currently in.”  
Bilbos’ nose twitched. “You mean... if you tried it now, Kili would stay a dwarf, but Fili would forever remain a hawk?”  
“That is what I what I cannot rule out.”

Kili looked up from his pony’s mane. “Even after all that’s happened by now, I think to try that and to risk it, I am still not desperate enough.”  
“I can imagine,” Bilbo replied with a heavy sigh.  
“We are well on our way, Master Dwarf,” Gandalf gave back. “Tomorrow we will have reached the Gap of Rohan and two thirds of the journey to Minas Tirith will be behind us.”

Kili nodded mutely and looked up again at the hawk who was circling above.

* * *

After having left Eriador behind, the road became rougher; Rohan was not as flat as the plains of Enedwaith and the King of Rohan seemed to have no great interest in travellers and trading.

“Rohan has a new King,” Gandalf explained to Bilbo and Kili. “Thengel has been crowned only last year, he has a lot of other matters on his mind than taking care of a road that hardly anyone travels. Once we have passed Edoras, however, the road should be in much better repair as Edoras and Minas Tirith have been allies for a very long time indeed.”  
“How long until we will be in Minas Tirith?” Bilbo looked up at the wizard.  
“A week and a half, maybe a bit less, depending on the weather.”

All three of them looked up at the sky, cloudless and blue, with the only thing visible the dark spot of the hawk. His shriek pierced the silence and then he dove to vanish in the grass far to the north. The stalks stood high and were slowly becoming yellow at the tips; summer was on its peak and the heat on the open plains was only bearable because of the constant winds coming from the mountains.

Lost in thought, Kili toyed with the beads around his neck. A week and a half, and they would be in Minas Tirith. But what then? They would have to find the witch, but finding her was the easiest part of their task. How could they bring her to undo the curse? What could they possibly offer her? What threats could work on a person with such powerful magic?

He had shared his thoughts on that with his brother – they had brought their writing tools with them – and he produced the sheet of paper from a pocket of his tunic to read his brother’s answer.

I share your worries, brother. I know what she wanted of me back then, and that was my body. I can only hope that I can offer myself to her again to make her undo the spell she cast on us, I will do so gladly to be able to be with you again. But somehow I doubt that it will be so easy.

No, it wouldn’t be. Gritting his teeth at the thought that his brother would have to give himself to someone else, Kili carefully stowed the paper away again. He heard the hawk again as he looked up and saw him fly towards them; he lifted his left arm and the bird landed gracefully upon it. Kili knew that he had eaten; he didn’t like to fly after a meal. So he settled the bird onto his saddle horn and immediately frowned. He could smell blood. Hastily he checked the bird for injuries, but there were none. Had he be mistaken?

But there was blood, he could see, a few traces left on the birds talons. He couldn’t possibly have smelled those, could he? Kili shook his head and shrugged, and the hawk mustered him with his unsettling amber eyes. He wanted his brother back, yes, but the thought that his beloved Fili would have to whore himself out for that made him feel sick to the bones.

* * *

In spring Minas Tirith had seen the Durin brothers leave; now with late summer they returned and Kili’s first sight of the white city filled him with hope and fear both. He only listened with half an ear to Bilbo and Gandalf debating about their choice of accommodation. 

In the end Bilbo announced that he hadn’t brought the gold smelling of troll all the way for nothing and they booked themselves in a more expensive inn in a two bedroom suite that would allow them space and enough privacy. It made it decidedly easier to avoid awkward questions as to why two different members of their party were only seen at different times and why there were animals with them to whom the same applied.

The innkeeper wasn’t overly happy to have a bird of prey in one of his rooms, complaining about noise, stink and shit all over the place; Bilbo put a calming hand on Kili’s arm and explained patiently to the innkeeper that the bird would not stay in a cage in the stables and that he would pay extra for cleaning. That pacified the man, but it took Kili a long time to get out of his fit of anger, even if the rational part of his mind knew that he had every right to worry about his furniture.

Since Fili was the only one who could lead them to the house of the witch they had to wait for sundown and they chose to take a meal together in their room, ordering a bit more so Fili could have his share too. 

“I don’t like going after her in darkness,” Fili said darkly as he dressed himself. “But I do not have a choice about it, do I.”  
“I’m afraid not,” Gandalf said. “Now let us proceed with haste so we can at least finish the first part of our investigations before sunrise.”  
Fili buckled his belt and proceeded to put on his boots. “Let’s get this over with,” he said after straightening up, and with a last glance at his brother who had curled up in front of the fireplace, Fili followed Gandalf outside. 

Bilbo sat down beside the wolf after the door had closed behind him and sighed. The wolf opened his eyes and flicked his ears.

“I wish I would retreat into a worriless state of mind sometimes, just like you. But in no way would I want to swap places with either of you.”   
The wolf didn’t take his eyes off the hobbit.  
“I don’t even know if this would be easier if you were aware of yourself, Kili.”  
At the sound of the name, the wolf lifted his head.  
“And now I’d like to know if that is a canine used to getting called a word or a shred of Kili coming through,” Bilbo muttered with a frown. 

The wolf settled down again, but Bilbo made a mental note to inform Gandalf and Fili of the wolf’s reaction to Kili’s name.

* * *

To find the quarter of merchants was easy enough even in darkness, even in a city the size of Minas Tirith. Once there, however, Fili couldn’t quite remember how to find the part where he had encountered the traders from Harad. They had to backtrack several times, and just as Fili was getting frustrated and very angry with himself for having such a poor memory he rounded a corner and stopped dead. 

“This is the street of the Harad vendors,” he said with a growing smile of triumph. For a moment he stretched his arms slightly away from his body before he let them drop again and pointed at a closed-up booth. “It was there that I bought the jewellery for my mother.”  
“Then let us not waste time,” Gandalf replied.

But something seemed out of place, even in the darkness against which the flickering street lamps with their small oil flames could hardly do anything. It was quiet, even for night time. 

“It is so very quiet,” Gandalf voiced Fili’s suspicion. “Almost too quiet.”

At a closer look, they could also see that the closed up booths were, in fact, nailed close and dried leaves had swept up in small heaps into the gaps between them. Debris lined the corners.

Fili’s mouth became a narrow line and his cheekbones protruded as he continued his way down the narrowing street until he found the small alley that would lead them to the back entrance of the house.

The wrought iron gate was open and creaking gently in the breeze. Not a single window in the house above was lit.

“What in Durin’s name is going on here...” Fili made no effort to hide the fear and worry in his voice.   
“We will find out,” Gandalf gave back in a low voice and walked through the gate. 

The door through which Fili had fled so long ago was unlocked, and as soon as the two entered, they could smell the remnants of a fire. The acrid stink of old, moist ashes and the bitter smell of wood that had burned quite some time ago.

Fili shook his head in desperate denial as he mounted the stairs. All his fears and worries had circled around the fact that the witch would not be willing to cooperate. That they wouldn’t find her at all had never crossed his mind. His stomach clenched as he thought of his brother when someone would break the news to him.

Feeling lost and close to tears under all his crushed hopes Fili stood in the door to the room he had been in, hands curled into fists and shoulders hunched. No pillows or curtains remained; a small pile of burned wood in the centre of the room was all that remained of the lush and luxurious furniture.

“Mahal...” Fili dug his knuckles into his eyes. “This can’t be true...”

Gandalf examined the room, more closely, walked through it from one end to the other, felt the walls, held his hands over the burned remains of furniture, but his face was tight. Fili watched him, shaking his head in fruitless denial.

“There is indeed no trace left,” Gandalf said with a heavy sigh. “Physically or otherwise. I’m sorry, Fili.”  
Fili couldn’t find any words to answer him.   
“Come, let us leave this place,” Gandalf said gently and took his arm. “We will find no answers here, and we’d best get back to the inn to deliberate what to do next.”

Fili followed the tug of the wizard’s arm. Despair was swallowing him like a black maw, frightening and infinite. He had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other.

A few dried leaves drifted aimlessly in the wind as they left the house again. Nothing else moved.

Upon leaving the deserted street of the Harad vendors, however, they met with a night watchman carrying a lantern. Gandalf hailed him and enquired about the fate of the Harad traders in the deserted street.

“Oh, them.” The guardsman spat out. “Beats me why you’d want to know about that scum.”  
“If you would be so kind?” Gandalf asked again.  
“One of them rich clotpoles made a brouhaha about some poor bastard or another who’d been in his wife’s bedroom, if ye catch me drift. Problem was, guards found out about it after they’d found him with his face down in the gutter. Didn’t sit too well with the people here, really didn’t.”

Gandalf cast a look at Fili who grew paler and tauter with every word the guardsman said.

“Don’t know all ins and outs, m’lord, truly don’t, but what everyone knows is that once the guards been in that house they found evidence of witchcraft.” His eyes grew wide. “Evil witchcraft! No mistake about it. I swear it’s true!”  
“What happened then to the people who lived there?” Gandalf asked somewhat impatiently.

The guardsman, bereft of a good storytelling, pouted and spat out again. “Caused quite another uproar, it did. The rich clotpole swore up and down he had no idea about his wife dabblin’ in black magics. An’ since he was too rich and important they’d let him go, so he left, with all and everyone of his household, takin’ most of them traders with him.”  
“And the witch?” Gandalf closed his fingers around his staff.

Fili’s blood ran cold with the guardsman’s next words.

“The witch?” He laughed coarsely. “They burned her alive, is what they did. Was quite the spectacle, that.”


	14. Chapter 14

Seeing Fili enter their room with drooping shoulders and a hanging head caused Bilbo to press his lips together in the knowledge that he wouldn't be hearing any good news tonight. Gandalf entered behind the young dwarf and silently closed the door.   
Fili fell onto the bed he shared with his brother and buried his face in his hands.

“I gather you couldn't find her,” Bilbo said with a sigh.  
“We did not find her, and never will,” Gandalf gave back and put his hat down. “She was burned as a witch.”

Bilbo was too shocked to reply and lowered his head, staring at his feet.

The wolf had lifted his head upon their entry and now got onto his feet. He trotted towards Fili, sniffed at his legs and nudged the dwarf's arm with his nose. Fili lifted his head, looked into the amber eyes and ruffled the fur on the wolf's neck. 

“Kili,” Bilbo said, and the wolf's head spun around.   
Both Fili's and Gandalf's eyes widened.  
“I saw him react to the name after you left,” Bilbo explained. “I thought you might want to know.”  
“It's the first time he's done that,” Fili said hesitantly. 

Both he and Bilbo looked up at Gandalf, and the thin line the wizard's mouth had become told them more than they wanted to know.

* * *

They had left Minas Tirith again before sunrise after Bilbo had paid the landlord of their inn, and now, with the sun sending the first rays of daylight over the land, neither Gandalf nor Bilbo knew how they could break the news to Kili. He had never been able to bear their fate with the same stoic, sad acceptance as Fili had. 

Kili looked around in confusion as he got up, pulling the blanket tighter around him. His eyes fell onto his companions and he frowned. 

“Why are we not in Minas Tirith anymore?”  
Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a worried look.  
“Why are we not in Minas Tirith anymore?” Kili demanded to know again, raising his voice. “Where is my brother? What happened to him?”  
“Nothing happened to your brother,” Gandalf hurried to say. “The hawk is sitting on yonder tree and watching you.”

Kili spun around and heaved a heavy breath upon the sight of the hawk sorting his feathers. The bird returned his look, interrupting his morning grooming, and emitted a noise at Kili that sounded decidedly more like a chirrup than a shriek. Kili dropped the blanket.

“What is it?” Bilbo stepped worriedly to his side.  
“That sound,” Kili said, staring at the hawk with a deeply wrinkled forehead. “They only make these sounds during mating season.”  
The implication of his own words suddenly clear to him, he swallowed hard. “What is happening?”  
“I fear that the consciousness of the dwarves is beginning to show in the animals,” Gandalf said slowly, almost cautiously. “The wolf has begun to react to your name.”

Kili spun around, eyes narrow and teeth bared as if in a silent growl.  
Gandalf closed his fingers around his staff with a sad sigh. “And it seems the animals are beginning to show in the dwarves.”  
Suddenly aware of what he was doing and how he must look like, Kili slapped a hand over his mouth and stared at the wizard in abject horror.

“What has she done?” He asked after he had dropped the hand again. “That foul witch, what has she done? What has she done to us now?!”  
“I'm afraid she has done nothing,” Gandalf replied. “We didn't find her.”  
Kili's face drained of all colour. “What do you mean you couldn't find her?” His voice was toneless, almost a whisper.   
“She is...” Gandalf cleared his throat. “I am sorry to tell you that she is dead.”

“No.” Kili shook his head. “No, that can't be true. We're still.... shouldn't the death of the witch have broken the curse? It should... Gandalf....”  
“I do not know,” Gandalf gave back cautiously. He knew he needed to tell him the same he had told Fili, but he didn't expect the silent, resigning acceptance the other dwarf had shown. “I only know of two outcomes of this...” He cleared his throat and continued. “Either the curse is broken... or it is... set in stone.”  
“What?” Kili chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. “Set in stone? What do you mean, Gandalf?”

Gandalf took a deep breath, his face sorrowful, and shook his head. Kili chuckled again, shaking his head, then his face suddenly froze.

“No,” he said. “No... it can't... it can't be...”  
“Kili...” Bilbo put a hand on his arm in a desperate effort to calm him. “Maybe there is...”  
Kili spun around, face wild, eyes wide, teeth bared. “Hope? Comfort? A way to exist in this state for the rest of our lives? No! No, there isn't!”  
“Kili,” Gandalf began, but Kili clenched his fists and stared at the hawk balancing on a branch.

“No,” he whispered. “No, Mahal help me, Mahal why did you do this to us?” His voice rose with every word he spoke; then he threw his head back and screamed, a throat-rendering sound of fury and anguish that tore through the silent morning like a knife of fire. 

Bilbo winced and hunched his shoulders. 

Still completely naked but utterly unmindful about it Kili spun around and approached the pony that was already prancing nervously, and yanked his bow and quiver free. He snatched one arrow as the quiver fell, disregarding the rest, and knocked the arrow with a furious huff as he spun around, tears streaming down his face. He had the bow drawn and the arrow pointing at the hawk before Bilbo or Gandalf could react. 

“Kili! What in the Valar's names...” Gandalf managed to hit Kili's arm with his staff just in time so the arrow flew uncontrolled to the side and landed harmlessly in the grass. The hawk had taken to the sky with a shriek.

“What are you doing?” Gandalf tore the bow out of Kili's suddenly unresisting fingers.  
“Putting an end to our misery,” Kili said tonelessly, staring empty-eyed at nothing. “Put the hawk down. Gut myself on my sword after that.”  
“Killing your brother?” Gandalf narrowed his eyes. “Don't you think Fili should have a say in this too??”  
Kili still stared at the spot where the hawk had been sitting before.  
“You will do nothing of the sort,” Gandalf replied gently. “While there is life, there is hope.”  
Very slowly, Kili turned around, his pale face still wet with tears. “What hope is there, Gandalf? You said yourself that if the witch's death doesn't break the curse it will set it in stone.”  
“No,” Gandalf gave back sternly. “I said I only know of these two outcomes.”  
“And what, pray, is the difference?” Kili swallowed and wiped a hand across his eyes.   
“It means that maybe there is someone else who knows more than I do in this matter.”

Kili let himself fall down onto his knees and sat back. “And who in Middle Earth could know that?” His shoulders were drooping under a heavy if invisible load.  
“Maybe no one,” Gandalf gave back. “But where she came from, there might be someone who knows this sort of magic better than I do.”  
Kili looked up at him in incomprehension.  
“She came from Harad, a place far to the south, a place about which even I hardly know more than tales. If there is anyone who knows how to break these kinds of spells, they will be there.”

“Harad?” Bilbo joined the conversation again, stepping to Gandalf's side. “Harad? That's weeks, if not months, to the south!”  
“Yes, it is.” Gandalf sighed. “But if we have to deal with Harad magic, or witchcraft, or whatever this is, then it will be in Harad where we can find someone to help us. It is our only hope now. I already told your brother as much, and he agreed with me.”

Kili looked up at him, eyes full of pain. Gandalf sighed again and tried to give him an encouraging smile, knowing that he was far from succeeding.

* * *

The days began to blend into one another on their journey south. It took them more than a week to make their way through South Ithilien; they reached the Passing of Poros nine days after they had left the White City behind.   
Bilbo had taken in the changing landscape with awe and wonder while Gandalf had worriedly eyed the dark and sinister mountains to the east. The two dwarves had no eyes for their surroundings, be it beautiful or worrisome.

Fili had spent his waking time at their nightly fires in deep, silent brooding, speaking hardly a word. His brother was no better off during the daylight hours, staring at his pony's ears and little else. 

Apart from a single note that had passed between the brothers the evening and first morning after their leaving of Minas Tirith, correspondence between the two had died completely, no matter how much Bilbo urged them to share their thoughts with each other.

“There is nothing left to say,” Kili said to brush the hobbit's efforts aside. “Why should I tell him a hundred times over what I told him a hundred times already?”

Fili was equally devoid of hope. “He knows what I'm thinking, what I feel,” he said to Bilbo as the latter tried to make him write another note. “Why make it worse by whining about it to each other?”

“I'm not sure I like the development,” Bilbo remarked sadly to the wizard that night as they shared a silent pipe at the fire. Fili had wordlessly curled up beside the wolf right after changing back and gone asleep with his hands buried in the thick black fur.  
“They had all their hopes on coming to Minas Tirith; on leaving the city free from their curse.” Gandalf blew a smoke ring. “It was too harsh a blow for them to recover easily.”  
“But Gandalf...” Bilbo chewed on the stem of his pipe. “How much hope is there really?”  
The wizard was silent for a very long time. Finally, he said slowly: “I have no idea, Bilbo. But we cannot give up before we have tried everything.”  
“And is this the last thing we can think of?”

Gandalf stared into the fire, but his silence was an answer in itself, albeit none Bilbo wanted to hear, and surely not what Gandalf would have liked to reply.

They crossed the river Poros the next morning and continued their way along the Harad Road. Slowly, around them the land began to change. The landscape was wide and open, flat without so much as a hill, and trees became scarce. What increased was the temperature – Bilbo reckoned that in the Shire the first nights of autumn would begin to turn the colour of the more delicate leaves – yet the further they travelled, the warmer the days and milder the night became. 

Nine days after the crossing of Poros they reached another river, the last one that bore a name known to the people of Arda. The vegetation was unfamiliar plants that seemed puny and looked half-wilted to Bilbo, being used to the lush, green fertility of the Shire, and the hobbit looked wonderingly at trees the likes of which he had never seen before.   
“Palm trees,” Gandalf said. “They only grow this far south where summer and winter are only different in their amount of rainfall and hardly so in temperature.”  
“You mean it's that warm the whole year round?” Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck.   
“Oh no,” Gandalf replied with a chuckle. “We're only in what the Men of Ithilien call Near Harad, the northern edge of Harad proper. It will get much warmer yet, my dear hobbit.”

Bilbo took a deep breath and didn't miss out on the chance of cooling his feet in the river after they had crossed.   
They made a break for a meal then and after they had mounted, Bilbo cast a cautious look at Kili, wondering how the dwarf in all his layers of clothing would deal with the increasing heat. But as of yet, Kili didn't seem to be uncomfortable. His misery still seemed to be worse than any physical discomfort.

Thus far, they had not encountered a single soul on the Harad Road, the only living things they had seen were animals; some herds of wild donkeys in the distance, large birds of prey that had scared the hawk so much he chose to ride the whole day on Kili's saddle horn, and long-legged, elegant animals that Gandalf called antelopes.

On their fifteenth day after crossing the last river that had marked the border between Ithilien and Harad, the small group, tired from the heat, passed a few low mounds of earth. Within moments of their appearance, small, cat like animals swarmed out of holes in the ground and stood upright like tiny people to stare at them with interested, alert eyes. 

It was the first thing since Minas Tirith that brought a tiny smile to Kili's face.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language I use is Swahili as I had nothing else to go by. Cut me some slack regarding a wild mixture of ideas about the culture; Harad isn’t Africa and I claim artistic license.

_He felt sunrays touching his face and warming his soul. Fili hadn’t seen the sun since the curse had taken hold of him and his brother, and he smiled, closing his eyes as he turned his face towards the sun, feeling the warmth on his face, the light shining as a red glow through his closed eyelids._

_And then a pair of arms wound around him, a body pressed against his, chest against Fili’s back. Fili knew that body, knew those arms, knew the lips from which a cool breath now grazed the skin on his neck. He turned around without opening his eyes and claimed those lips in a soft and gentle kiss._  
_They tasted of life, of love, of salt..._

_All warmth in Fili vanished._

_They tasted of blood._

_Fili opened his eyes, looked at his brother, saw the blood on his face; his throat was suddenly too tight to speak._

_“Fili...” His name coming from those lips, the warm brown eyes widening... and too late Fili realised that they had tried to speak a warning._

_Kili’s eyes widened more as something brutally grabbed Fili’s collar._

_Searing pain blinded Fili to the world, with blood rising in his throat and choking him..._  
_Agony._  
_But then he opened his eyes._

_The blade had skewered him, protruded out of his belly, and had buried itself deep into his brother’s chest._

_Kili’s lips were still parted, Fili’s name on them even as the light vanished out of his beloved warm brown eyes. Fili tried to scream, but he had no breath left inside him. Pain dug into his body like giant talons and tore him away._

_Away, and upward. Upward, and under him, Kili collapsed, dark red blooming under his body, drenching the earth._

_Still he rose, upward, skyward, and suddenly the grip was gone and he fell, fell and fell, tumbled and fell, and hit the hard and merciless flagstones in an explosion of indescribable pain._

Fili shot upright with a heavy gasp.

Bilbo almost dropped his pipe and shot him a worried look, but Fili refused to meet his eyes. 

“Fili?”  
“It’s nothing.” He tried to stop the tremors running through his body. “Just a dream.”  
“Hm.” Bilbo brought his pipe up again. “A vile dream, by the look of you.”  
“A nightmare then,” Fili gave back testily. “It’s none of your business.”

As Fili buried himself into his blanket again, the wolf, startled awake by Fili’s sounds, inched closer and Fili curled into his body, burying his hands into the black fur.

Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a worried look but held their silence; they had born witness to Fili’s nightmares almost every night now. First, at the beginning of their journey, they had been sporadic, but since they had left Minas Tirith again the dreams had come more often until, by now, Fili suffered from them almost every night. 

But he refused to talk about it, refused to admit it, even, and since neither the hobbit nor the wizard could really do anything about them they let him be. Bilbo was sure that Kili knew nothing of his brother’s nightmares, and in the end, it might even be better this way. Kili had always seemed the more vulnerable of the two, even if he just might wear his feelings on the outside as opposed to his brother who might just keep everything hidden. But to add Fili’s nightmares to everything else that Kili already had to bear – maybe Fili was making the right decision in keeping him in the dark about them.

Bilbo caught a few hours sleep as well but as usual awoke with the break of dawn, only to walk a bit away from the camp to join Gandalf who was sitting on a nearby rock.

Somehow the two brothers had establish a routine of sleeping that enabled them to look at each other when the sun rose, during that single heartbeat where they both saw each other with their own eyes and not those of the animal. Bilbo left every time, unwilling to witness that moment; not because of their nakedness but because of the intimacy of that moment, the intensity in their eyes, and the few times he had accidentally witnessed it he had felt like an intruder. So now he kept away from the brothers to leave that one tiny precious moment only to them.

Not long after that Kili joined them, and as he yawned, Bilbo noticed that he had begun to curl his tongue when doing so. It was as disturbing to watch as Fili’s jerky head movements and the strange tilt of his head as he did so. 

Neither Gandalf nor Bilbo had mentioned that the animals and dwarves were beginning showing in each other ever again since Minas Tirith, but the slowly increasing intensity worried both of them deeply.

* * *

Ever since they had crossed the river Harnen, Gandalf had led them south and westward, as the largest part of Harad was an enormous desert known as the Sea of Dunes. Sand, and nothing but sand, Gandalf had told them, no water and no shade, and no living thing as there was nothing on which to survive but heat and sand.

So they headed towards the inhabitable regions along the coastline, through the savannah that separated the fertile coast from the dead and barren desert further inland.

The wild donkeys had given way to large herds of antelope and animals that Gandalf could not name; cattle-like but with enormous horns, lean and somewhat feral looking. Kili shot a wounded calf one day and they discovered that their meat was very good, but that night they had to defend their little camp against strange animals, predators or more likely scavengers as they smelled of carrion, that looked like the crossbreed of a large cat and a dog; with dotted fur and black ears and an evil grin on their faces. They seemed to laugh at them even as they dragged the carcass away.  
Gandalf had deemed it wise to let them have it instead of risking their lives or health and the others had quickly agreed; Fili had hardly been able to hold the wolf back and keep him from attacking as it was. 

But the next day around noon, they spotted a line of trees towards the western horizon that marked one of the rare streams in this country, and upon reaching it that night, they discovered that camping next to a water source was not as good an idea as it had seemed. They were swarmed by mosquitoes and only adding wet leaves to their fire to produce an almost unbearable amount of smoke kept the little beasts at bay.

They followed the stream the next day, and at midmorning, found the first signs of a settlement: a herd of goats guarded by two dogs. Not long after that, they could finally lay their eyes on the first people other than themselves, ever since they had left Ithilien behind.

A group of children, dark-skinned and clad in colourful cloth wrapped around their hips, were running towards them, wide-eyed but laughing. And they called out to them, still laughing and white teeth shining and eyes sparkling, in a language nothing like anything else Bilbo or Kili had ever heard before.

“ _Jambo! Nafurahi kukuona!_ ”  
“ _Jambo! Jambo!”_  
“ _Jina lako nani?”_  
“ _Unatoka wapi?”_

The children swarmed them, and their obvious happiness and lack of fear was impossible to resist. Even Gandalf smiled benevolently down at the children, and Kili grinned back at them completely unguarded. 

“Gandalf,” Bilbo said, while smiling at the children. “Do you understand a word of what they are saying?”  
Gandalf nodded. “I cannot say I am fluent in this tongue, but I do understand that they greet us.”  
“I could have gathered as much,” Bilbo gave back with a grin. “Are the locals always this friendly?”  
“I have not experienced otherwise.” Gandalf waved at the children. “ _Asante! Asante!_ ” He said. “ _Unatoka wapi? Ni karibu?_ ”

That caused the children to laugh even more – Bilbo assumed Gandalf had a terrible accent – but they began to wave at them, bidding them to follow. 

“ _Wakintu! Wakintu!_ ”

They nudged their ponies, which had been cause for much wide-eyed astonishment among the children into a walk again and followed the children.

“Gandalf?”  
“Yes, Bilbo?”  
“How come you speak their language? Have you travelled much here?”  
“Well.” Gandalf smiled at the hobbit. “I travelled to Baro Kora once, a city on the coast. They had occasional trading business with Gondor, mostly by ship, back then.”  
“And we couldn’t have gone by ship too?”  
Gandalf frowned “It has been many years since I even heard of a ship making the journey from the mouth of the Anduin across the sea toward Harad, and the coastline is a dead strip of sand and heat for most of the way. To brave Ethir Anduin, the marshlands of Lebennin in South Gondor, to reach a harbour that today mostly shelters fishing boats seemed more a waste of time than anything else.”  
Bilbo nodded silently and cast a look at Kili.

Less than an hour later they had reached a small village; two dozen huts of varying sizes, all made of loam with roofs of dried grass.  
Within minutes, what seemed to be the whole village had gathered around them, all smiling faces and lively chatter. The ponies, being the centre of wide-eyed attention, began to prance nervously and Kili decided to dismount to take his and Bilbo’s reins. On horseback the difference in height had not been noticeable but as Kili’s boots hit the ground the chatter died.

“Gandalf?” Kili asked, suddenly guarded again. “Why do they look at me as if they’ve seen a ghost?”  
“I gather they have never seen a dwarf before, Master Kili,” Gandalf replied and dismounted as well. “I would not worry.”

Indeed, after a few moments, the children were back, swarming Kili and asking him an incredible amount of questions to which Kili could only shrug and smile.

Gandalf was now approached by a group of four old men, each of them carrying a long staff. They seemed to be persons of authority because the other people made room for them respectfully. Gandalf greeted them with a bow, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, and the gesture was returned. Then the wizard began to talk, slowly and carefully, to allow the people to understand him despite the difficulties of pronunciation that he doubtlessly had.

The elders listened to Gandalf’s words, nodding slowly, weighing their heads, and in the end, bade him to enter a hut after calling out some words to the other villagers.

A young man approached Kili and Bilbo and bade them to follow, and holding the reins of the ponies, Kili did so. He led them towards a corral in the shade of a few trees, not high but very broad with branches stretching far away from the trunk. The pen, built of branches of thorny bushes by the look of it, presently held a couple of heavily pregnant goats. Bilbo dismounted as well and Kili took care of the ponies, unsaddling them and taking off the reins after he had led them inside. A hollowed tree trunk was filled with water and the beasts instantly went there to quench their thirst.

Kili and Bilbo settled down in the shade as well and were offered water in flat bowls by a young woman with an infant in a sling on her back; her smile radiant and beautiful, completely unaware of how uncomfortable her bare breasts made Kili as she knelt beside him to offer him the water. Bilbo, less bashful about naked skin than the young dwarf, tried to keep his smile hidden.

Another woman then offered them food; flat cakes made from some sort of starchy root, by the taste of it, covered with finely chopped and stewed meat and vegetables. After some initial confusion the women showed Bilbo and Kili how to roll the things up to eat them and their red faces upon tasting the spicy food were cause of much good-natured mirth and laughter among the villagers. Bilbo seemed to manage, but Kili felt as if his tongue and mouth were on fire; his eyes and nose began to run freely as he tried not to suffocate. 

A while later – Gandalf had still not reappeared – the hawk made his presence known with a shriek as he landed on a branch above. Kili held out his arm and the hawk settled down there, mustering the villagers with his amber eyes. The people seemed fascinated, either by the bird they had never seen before or by the fact he was so tame, most likely both. Kili smiled and ran his finger down the hawk’s back, then pointed towards the bird and made an eating motion with his hand towards his mouth. One of the women left them and returned somewhat later with a small bowl containing raw strips of meat. She offered this to Kili with a question, and when he nodded with a thankful smile, she beamed at him in return.

It was only when Kili fed the bird that he realised this was the first time the hawk was actually eating from his hands; that in fact, he had petted his feathers, something he had never been allowed before. He then remembered Gandalf and Bilbo telling him, upon leaving Minas Tirith, that the animals were acting tamer and somehow more aware, and that aspects of the animals were showing in the dwarves. At that moment the hawk lifted his head and looked at Kili, emitting the small chirruping sound Kili had heard before. 

Kili had no way of knowing to what degree the hawk’s senses were affecting his brother, but if his own enhanced sense of smell was anything to go by, his brother might have gained a much sharper eyesight. He also knew about the fact he was curling his tongue when he yawned, something he was unable to suppress, and an uncomfortable feeling of tightness settled into Kili’s stomach at the thought. How much of the hawk was already a part of his brother then? And where would this transformation stop?

* * *

When Gandalf emerged out of the hut again the sun was already hanging low in the sky. He settled down beside them under the tree and watched Kili and the hawk for a while before he met both his and Bilbo’s eyes. 

“They know about our purpose and that we are looking for someone to help us break a spell,” he said slowly. “However, there is no one here in Wakintu or the other nearby villages that can. The only person the elders can think of is someone they call a _sangoma_...” He hesitated. “I think it can be translated as a medicine man, although the term makes little sense in our language. But he is the only one they think might be able to help us.”

Kili waited for a moment and then cleared his throat. “And where can we find this... this... medicine man?  
“The _sangoma_ lives to the east of here,” Gandalf replied thoughtfully. “He lives very close to the edge of the desert.”

Bilbo and Kili exchanged a worried glance.

“And what seems to be the problem?” Bilbo ventured to ask.  
“The ponies,” Gandalf said. “They cannot make the journey; these beasts are not bred to withstand the heat and drought of these spheres. We will have to walk there and leave the animals here in the care of the people of Wakintu.”  
“And what other problem is there?” Kili leaned forward with a frown, his upper lip curling slightly back. “What are you hiding?”  
“I am hiding nothing,” Gandalf gave back sternly. “I was about to continue, young master dwarf.”

Kili leaned back against the tree and scowled at the wizard. The hawk lowered his head and nibbled his thumb, a gesture that Gandalf watched with unmasked worry.

“One problem is the medicine man himself. I was informed that he is not... the helpful sort.”  
“It would have been too easy if he was,” Kili muttered while staring at the hawk.  
“Well.” Gandalf took a deep breath. “And the other problem are you and your brother.”

Kili looked up.

“Whatever we do, we have to make haste, and this one person is most likely our last hope,” Gandalf said. “The merging of dwarf and animal in your minds is accelerating. I fear we are running out of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Jambo_ : Hello  
>  _Nafurahi kukuona_ : Nice to meet you  
>  _Jina lako nani?_ : What is your name?  
>  _Unatoka wapi?_ : Where are you from?  
>  _Asante_ : Thank you  
>  _Ni karibu?_ : Is it near?
> 
> Source:http://goafrica.about.com/od/peopleandculture/a/swahili.htm


	16. Chapter 16

Since they had no time to lose Gandalf, Bilbo and Kili left Wakintu the next morning shortly after sunrise.

The village elders had offered them a hut to sleep in so that no one would unwittingly become witness of the transformation of the brothers. Even if they had been informed about the reason of the strangers’ visit, actually watching the transformation might easily have scared anyone, so they remained inside until Kili was back in his clothes the next morning.

During the night they had informed Fili about the events of the prior day and their resulting plans, but the young dwarf had shown no trace of hope or rising spirits at the news. He had spent most of the night silent, with the wolf’s head in his lap, scratching the furry head while the wolf happily wagged his tail. Ever since they had left Minas Tirith, Fili had hardly spoken a word.

Accompanied by the best wishes of the elders and friendly farewells of the other inhabitants of Wakintu they now made their way east, further inland and towards the dead and deadly desert named the Sea of Dunes. The rising sun stung in their eyes for the first half of the day and burned their backs from noon to dusk, and the further inland they got, the more oppressive the heat became. 

While Bilbo and Gandalf could bear the heat, more or less, to Kili the journey became a torture. He had shed his vest and tunic the day after they had left Wakintu, but a single day bare-chested had taught him better than to attempt to shed any more clothing. His back was on fire now with the worst sunburn he could have imagined and his shirt clung to him sticky with sweat, making his skin burn and itch even more. The fact that the shirt was of a dark blue colour didn’t help at all and Kili began to feel as if he was being cooked alive. It didn’t improve his temper.

The landscape around them was flat, open country; here and there grew low, thorny bushes that offered no shade with their tiny, needle-like leaves. The ground was reddish-brown earth, baked rock-hard by the merciless sun.   
Bilbo envied Gandalf his wide-brimmed hat; his own nose and cheeks were burning uncomfortably and when he squinted, he could see how red his nose must be. He cast another look at Kili whose skin was peeling off his nose and cheeks, where no facial hair kept the sun away, and reined his self-pity in. 

They now rested a few hours around noon everyday and instead travelled a few hours into the night as well as some time before sunrise. It was a small mercy but a mercy nonetheless that the wolf was only about at night; the poor animal would have died of a heatstroke for sure in his thick, black fur. As it was he trotted sure-footedly beside Fili, but the young dwarf attempted no conversation, neither with his brother nor with the other two. Bilbo reckoned that it must have been three weeks since he last heard Fili’s voice and even then only when he was caught in one of his nightmares. 

Bilbo could see that the brothers were slowly but inevitably reaching the end of their tether. By his reckoning it had been the better part of a year, by now, that the two were forced to live apart from each other, unable to communicate save by notes and only half the time aware of themselves and the other. He did not dare think about what would happen if this, their last hope, would lead to nothing. 

It was after they had settled down for the evening to sleep and rest in the blessed coolness of the night that Fili finally spoke again. He sat down after shrugging off his pack and the moment he did so the wolf was at his side, nudging his big head into Fili’s lap.

“How fares my brother?” Fili asked in a low voice.  
“You could ask him yourself,” Bilbo replied cautiously. “You could still write to each other.”  
Fili looked up, eyebrows drawn together. “I want to know how he fares, not what he chooses to tell me to spare my feelings.”  
Bilbo could not meet that unnerving stare and lowered his eyes. “Not well,” he finally admitted. “He suffers from heat and sunburn much more than Gandalf or even I do. And I think he has given up hope before we have even reached our destination.”

Fili ran his fingers through the black fur with a sigh. “I cannot say I blame him.”  
“Fili.” Bilbo adjusted his position and leaned a little forward. He wrinkled his nose in thought and then offered the dwarf his pouch of pipe weed which Fili declined. “We haven’t even spoken to him yet.”  
Fili shrugged. “It’s... it’s hard. Twice our hopes have been shattered and I simply dare not nourish my hope anymore. It hurts too much.”  
“But...”  
“Leave it, master burglar.” The ghost of a smile flitted over Fili’s face. “We have not given up completely otherwise we wouldn’t be here dredging ourselves through this cursed desert.”  
Bilbo twitched his nose again and looked at his pipe. “If you say so.”

Fili didn’t reply anymore, and spoke no more for the rest of the night, or any night thereafter.

* * *

As described by the elders of Wakintu, ten days after they had left the village they passed a large cluster of rocks that looked as if a giant had stacked them there, and from that landmark on, headed north-east.   
Two days later, they could finally spot their destination.

There had been a few difficulties for them to understand what a baobab was but now, as they got closer to the giant tree, they began to comprehend the sheer size of it; and that the shaman was not living at or close the tree but inside its hollow trunk that measured about six yard in diameter. It looked strange to someone who had grown up with the oaks and beeches of Arda.

“It looks as if someone has dug it out and put it back into the earth the wrong way round,” Bilbo remarked as he looked at the unfamiliar tree.

A few trinkets and colourful painted discs were stung up in the branches and swinging in the wind. Arranged around the entrance, that was closed with a curtain made of hide, were stones painted with strange and somehow unpleasant faces. Kili reached out and the hawk immediately settled on his forearm. Slowly they walked the last few yards towards the giant tree, the only sound around them the strange melodies of the wind-chimes hanging above the entrance.

They stopped a few feet away from the tree and Gandalf looked around, up towards the branches and back and the curtain again, before pointedly clearing his throat. 

Nothing happened.

Kili and Bilbo exchanged a nervous look and the hawk ruffled his feathers. 

“ _Jambo! Salama!_ ” Gandalf closed his fingers around his staff, pursing his lips. He tried again. “ _Tafadhali, naomba msaada! Tafadhali!_ ”

Nothing happened.

“I can see what the people meant with _not the helpful sort_ ,” Bilbo said drily.

Gandalf looked over his shoulder at Bilbo and Kili, worry clear in his eyes. He took a deep breath, faced the door again, and tried once more.

“ _Salama! Tafadhali, naomba msaada!_ ”

The only sounds disturbing the silence were the wind-chimes. Gandalf turned around; he could visibly not bear to meet Kili’s eyes. But just as he opened his mouth to say something the curtain was swept aside and a small, old man emerged, his short-cropped hair white as snow and his skin so wrinkled that he looked like he was made from tanned leather. He was naked save for a tattered brown loincloth.

He looked at Gandalf, at Bilbo at Kili and the hawk, and an incredible, gap-toothed grin appeared on his face. 

Gandalf took a deep breath and inclined his head. “ _Sangoma? _”  
The old man grinned even broader. “ _Ndiyo, Ndiyo._ ” He patted his lean chest. “ _Sangoma. Jina langu ni Haoniyao._ ” He laughed and pointed at Gandalf. “ _Jina lako nani?_ ”  
“Gandalf,” Gandalf replied. “ _Jina langu ni_ Gandalf.” He turned towards his companions. “Kili. Bilbo. This is the _sangoma _, his name is Haoniyao.”____

____“ _Ndiyo, Ndiyo!_ ” The old man laughed, rubbing his hands together. Then he approached Kili, looked at him, and the smile vanished. He looked deeply into Kili’s eyes, and after a long moment, at the hawk. “ _Msaada. Ndiyo._ ”  
“What did he say?” Kili’s voice was low and careful, and he didn’t dare break the old man’s gaze that rested on him again._ _ _ _

____The _sangoma_ smiled, and startled them all when he said: “Help, yes!”  
Gandalf coughed and leaned forward. “You speak our language?”  
The _sangoma_ grinned and held thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Lile bit!” Then he laughed. “Me young man.” He held his arms at an angle as if they were heavily muscled and strutted back and forth. “Travel. Travel north. Big city. Haoniyao learn.” Then he dropped his posture and added mournfully: “Haoniyao old. Haoniyao forget.” Only to instantly laugh again.“ _Rafiki! Rafiki!_ ” He waved at them, bidding them to follow. Holding the curtain aside, he waved again. “ _Rafiki! Rafiki!_ ”_ _ _ _

____“Gandalf?”  
Gandalf exhaled softly. “ _Rafiki_ is the word for friend,” he said. “It should be safe.”_ _ _ _

____The interior of the giant tree looked hardly different than the hut they had spent their night in when staying in Wakintu. Mats of braided grass covered the ground, but as opposed to the hut in the village, here pots and crooks and bowls and bags covered every available surface around the mats._ _ _ _

____To their surprise, a young woman clad in a long shift of coarse fabric stepped free of the shadows at the back as they entered, and after settling down on the mats, she brought them bowls of water and a large plate of what looked like fruits._ _ _ _

____Bilbo looked at the woman kneeling beside the old man. “Is she your daughter?” He asked, and added, as that only earned him a look of amused incomprehension: “Your child?”  
The old man frowned, then the gap-toothed grin appeared again. “Child, yes, daughter, no.”  
It was Bilbo’s turn to frown now.   
Haoniyao laughed again. “Spirit child.” He put a hand on the young woman’s shoulder and she smiled shyly. Kinaya spirit child of Haoniyao.”  
Bilbo looked helplessly at Gandalf.   
“I gather she is his apprentice,” the wizard mused, and the old man’s face lit up.  
“Appentise, yes!” He laughed and clapped his hands like a delighted child. “Kinaya appentise!”_ _ _ _

____The inside of the large tree was blessedly cool in comparison to the heat outside, and the water and sweet and juicy fruits were a blessing in itself. Singing under his breath, Haoniyao waited patiently until everyone had eaten and drunken their fill until he addressed Gandalf again, this time using the language of the desert._ _ _ _

____Since neither Bilbo nor Kili could understand a word of this they leaned back and Bilbo watched as Kili idly caressed the hawk’s feathers._ _ _ _

____Suddenly Kili felt a hand on his arm. It was the young woman, and she smiled at him warmly. “ _Jina lako nani?_ ”  
Kili shrugged.  
She put a hand on her chest. “ _Jina Kinaya._ ” She put her hand on Kili’s. “ _Jina?_ ”  
“Oh.” Kili chuckled, which earned him a broad smile. “Kili.”  
“Kili.” She seemed delighted. “ _Jina?_ ” She pointed at Bilbo.”  
“That’s Bilbo,” Kili replied. “Bilbo.”  
“Bilbo.” Kinaya graced Bilbo with the same beaming smile, followed by a string of words that neither of them could understand. But Kinaya only laughed. _ _ _ _

____She then offered them more water before she shifted her attention on the hawk._ _ _ _

____“Fili,” Kili said, surprised at how much it still hurt just speaking that name. “ _Jina_ Fili.”  
“Fili,” Kinaya repeated. She looked at the bird and spoke a few soft words. Kili sighed and dropped his head, not bothering to hide how tired he was. _ _ _ _

____He must have dozed off because he suddenly jerked awake when he heard the hawk shriek. But the bird was nowhere to be seen._ _ _ _

____“He flew outside,” he heard Gandalf’s voice. “It’s close to sunset, Kili.”_ _ _ _

____Kili nodded groggily and went outside, too. The hawk was sitting on a nearby thorn bush and was watching him intently as he began to undress; and he watched the hawk as he went down into a crouch. The bird immediately left his vantage point and landed in front of him on the ground._ _ _ _

____Gandalf watched the _sangoma_ as the old man observed the change of the brothers. He didn’t show the tiniest reaction, as opposed to his apprentice, who gasped in surprise. But the medicine man just tapped his chin thoughtfully. _ _ _ _

____Bilbo had stood ready with a blanket, and as Fili slowly got up now, taking in his surroundings with widened eyes, he hastened to his side and slung the blanket around his shoulders. Fili looked at the wolf, then at Bilbo, and finally at Gandalf. And then at the wrinkled old man beside the wizard._ _ _ _

____“Is this him?” He asked in a voice slightly rough from long disuse.  
Gandalf nodded. “His name is Haoniyao.”_ _ _ _

____Fili nodded and let Bilbo guide him inside to where his and his brother’s pack was stored so he could dress himself. When he re-emerged, he saw Bilbo sit beside the wolf and Gandalf and the _sangoma_ deep in conversation. He lowered himself down beside the hobbit and sighed. And as the young apprentice now offered Fili and Bilbo more fruit and water, the wizard and the _sangoma_ headed inside._ _ _ _

____Bilbo lit himself a pipe, and this time Fili accepted the offered pouch of pipe weed to join him. They smoked in silent companionship while watching the smoke curl upwards into the star-dusted infinity above._ _ _ _

____How much time had passed Bilbo couldn’t say, but when the curtain finally opened again and Gandalf emerged, followed by the old _sangoma_ , Bilbo could feel his heart beat faster. He cast a hasty look at Fili, but the young dwarf seemed chiselled from stone, the only thing moving were his eyes that followed the wizard’s moves until Gandalf crouched down in front of him._ _ _ _

____Fili met his eyes. “He can’t help us.”  
Gandalf shook his head. “It is... complicated,” he gave back. “I try to explain it to the best of my abilities.”_ _ _ _

____Fili nodded, and Gandalf went on._ _ _ _

____“The concept of good and evil spirits is difficult to understand for one who has not grown up in this world. Suffice to say that evil spirits were summoned and bound to the witch’s will when she cursed you.”  
“I gathered as much.” Fili took a deep breath. “Now what?”  
“Well, the _sangoma_ , you see, he is a healer and not a warlock. He draws his power from... the ancestors. The spirits of those who have gone before him.”  
“So he can’t help us.” Fili said again. “Why do you keep beating about the bush?”  
“Because it is not as simple as a yes or no, young master dwarf,” Gandalf replied sternly. “While he cannot command the evil spirits and break the curse, he can ask the ancestors for help to...” He scratched his beard. “To alter the curse, turn it into something that... that fate and time can break.”_ _ _ _

____Fili stared at the wizard for a long, silent moment. “So we came all this way for nothing more than a maybe, and no idea of how and when we will ever be free.” He sighed. “Well... it is certainly better than no chance at all.”  
“I am sorry that there is no more we can do,” Gandalf said gently. “I am sorry that you have to endure all this for so little hope.”  
Fili didn’t reply.  
“And now?” Bilbo dared to interject. “What do we do now?”  
“Now...” Gandalf stood back up. “Now we have to let the _sangoma_ do what he must.” He held a hand out to Fili. “Follow me. He said that... he needs you inside for the sacrifice.”_ _ _ _

____Fili took the offered hand. “What sacrifice?” He asked emotionlessly as he was back on his feet.  
“I do not know.” Gandalf sighed. “It is something I was not able to fully comprehend due to the language barrier. While I can easily converse about most topics, this magic is unknown to me and there are many words I have never heard before. All I can say is that he needs a sacrifice of both of you, and one of body and one of the spirits each.”_ _ _ _

____“And what does he mean by that?” Bilbo said, tugging at Gandalf’s robes. “Gandalf, what is he going to do to them?”  
“I do not know, though I can hardly imagine it is something evil,” Gandalf replied. “But a sacrifice is always something painful, either in body or in soul.”_ _ _ _

____Fili didn’t reply, he simply headed towards the entrance of the dwelling and shrugged. “Whatever he wants from me he shall have it, if it gives me even the slightest chance of getting my brother back.”  
“I expected no less,” Gandalf replied in a low voice. _ _ _ _

____Once inside they had to wait for a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim light, to see the _sangoma_ already sitting cross-legged in front of a large, flat bowl. Humming softly, he indicated for Fili to sit.   
A strange, sweet smell filled the air, coming from other bowls filled with glowing coal onto which resin and herbs were sprinkled. Fili sat down cross-legged as well, with the bowl between him and the _sangoma_ , and waited. _ _ _ _

____The _sangoma_ began to sing now, a low, rhythmic chant, rising and falling and speeding up with the beat of the drum which his apprentice was playing. It was rather captivating, and Fili found himself swaying slightly back and forth with the rhythm despite himself. _ _ _ _

____When the drumbeats suddenly stopped Fili blinked, to find the _sangoma_ holding out his hands over the bowl between them. Instinctively, Fili reached out, and the old man took his wrists with surprising strength for his gnarled and withered hands. He met Fili’s eyes and spoke, his voice still rising and falling, chant-like and hypnotic._ _ _ _

____“He asks if you are willing...” Gandalf translated his words. “...to summon the spirits of the ancestors and tell them who they should bond to.”_ _ _ _

____Fili nodded and was not surprised in the slightest when the _sangoma_ sliced into both his palms with a knife, his blood dripping into the bowl and painting bizarre patterns in the uneven surface. _ _ _ _

____“He asks if you are truly willing to give anything.”  
“Anything,” Fili said without a moment’s hesitation. “Whatever he wants.”  
Gandalf told the _sangoma_ this and translated the reply back to Fili. “He says it is not what he wants but what the spirits want.  
“Doesn’t make a difference to me,” Fili muttered. _ _ _ _

____The _sangoma_ nodded again and chanted while sprinkling the blood in the bowl with a red powder. _ _ _ _

____The chant continued but the rhythm changed, it became faster as his voice rose higher and louder as well. Fili felt a strange tightness in his chest and throat, as if he was being choked, but as the _sangoma_ suddenly stopped chanting, the tightness vanished. _ _ _ _

____“The sacrifice of spirit,” Gandalf related the _sangoma’s_ words and hesitated before he went on. “Pride and vanity, he says. You have to humble yourself before the spirits of the ancestors to prove yourself.”_ _ _ _

____Fili looked up at that and at the _sangoma_ who was holding out the knife to him._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Jambo/Salama_ : Hello  
>  _Tafadhali, naomba msaada_ : Please help me  
>  _Ndiyo:_ Yes  
>  _Jina langu ni...:_ My name is...  
>  _Jina lako nani?:_ What is your name?
> 
> Source:http://goafrica.about.com/od/peopleandculture/a/swahili.htm


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to get the soundtrack of this online. It's only one piece, but it sums up all my feelings for this story. It's the most sad and hauntingly beautiful music ever written: [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be), by Ludovico Einaudi  
> I can especially recommend it for the upcoming chapters.

Looking at the knife Fili knew exactly what he was supposed to do. And even if he had spoken nothing but the truth when he said he’d give anything, he discovered that this was still harder than he had anticipated. He looked at the sharp blade with a lump in his throat.

Would Kili have to go through this as well? Most likely, as the spirits, whatever those were, demanded sacrifices of both of them. He wished that there was something he could give to spare his brother this, but he also knew that if this was the only way, his brother would do it with no regret and no hesitation. He took one deep breath and gathered his hair at the back of his neck with his other hand, closed his eyes and sliced, unable to suppress a shudder when the back of his neck was suddenly exposed to the cool air.

When he opened his eyes again the old _sangoma_ nodded, his smiles and laughter all gone for the time being, and pointed towards the bowl. Fili dropped the severed hair into it and looked expectantly at the old man.   
A few soft words were accompanied by another gesture that made him grit his teeth, but he nodded and closed his eyes again.

 _For Kili_ , he kept telling himself every time he dropped a strand of hair into the bowl. _I’m doing this for Kili_.

It made it easier to bear, but no less hard to do. When he was finally done his hands were shaking so badly that he had to suffer Bilbo’s help; the hobbit took Fili’s hand holding the blade to steady it or he would have cut his own throat while cutting off his beard. Tears were trickling down Bilbo’s cheeks when he met Fili’s eyes, and he managed to give the hobbit a weak, tired smile. 

At a word from Haoniyao his apprentice now went towards the entrance and opened the curtain as Fili handed the knife back, shuddering again at the unfamiliar coldness on his head and the lack of hair brushing his face. He suddenly realised he was glad that his brother could not see him like this.

After mumbling a few words, Haoniyao now took a small glowing stick, waved it over the bowl a few times in an eight-shaped pattern and dropped it. The thick stink of burning hair immediately filled the air, only bearable by the fact that Kinaya was holding the curtain flap wide open. Everyone’s eyes watered as the _sangoma_ stirred in the bowl until nothing but dark, crumbly ash remained. He mixed that ash with a liquid that looked like some kind of oil and bade Fili so stand up. 

Fili obeyed, and Haoniyao now approached him with a small knife in one hand and in the other a dab of the paste he had just produced from his burned hair. He gestured at Fili to lift his chin and then made two shallow incisions down Fili’s throat, on each side of his voice box, and immediately rubbed the black paste into the cuts. Then he stepped back, patted Fili’s shoulders and smiled as he spoke.

“This is to let the spirits know where to put it back,” Gandalf translated, puzzlement clear in his voice.

 _Put what back_ , Fili meant to ask, but as he opened his mouth, no sound emerged. He felt his knees begin to weaken, and he swallowed hard and tried again. Again, no sound emerged. Not even trying to scream produced anything but a dry, heavy breath.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo rushed to Fili’s side to grab the dwarf’s elbow and help him sit down. “What is this?”

Gandalf slowly looked up at the _sangoma_ who shook his head and explained. 

“He says that this is the sacrifice of the body.”  
“Sacrif... But the blood? Gandalf, the blood?”  
“That was to summon these... spirits and bind them. I told you I do not know half as much as I would like and understand it even less!”  
Bilbo stared up at the wizard, unable to hide his grief and frustration. “What in all the Valar’s name have these two to go through, Gandalf? And why? Why can this not be...” He angrily wiped his eyes and looked at Fili again who, in turn, just stared at nothing with empty eyes. “Why? Gandalf, why?”

But Gandalf could only mournfully shake his head. 

Bilbo stared up at the wizard before he rested his eyes on Fili, who now slowly drew up his knees to bury his face in his arms he slung around them.   
Beside him the wolf emitted a drawn-out whine; a soft but high-pitched sound of grief, as Fili’s hands scratched over the stubble of his shorn hair while his shoulders trembled under silent, heavy sobs.

* * *

When Kili faced the second part of whatever ceremony or spell-casting it was that the _sangoma_ was doing, he knew what was going to happen – thanks to Bilbo who had filled him in with the details of what Fili had been through the night before. Thus it didn’t come as a shock when he was handed the knife, but whatever stoic acceptance his brother had mastered, it eluded Kili completely. He was a sobbing mess when he finally handed the knife back and wiped his sleeve across his eyes in shame about his tears and his weakness both. It was as well that Fili couldn’t see him like this.

He angrily kept wiping his tears away, but they finally stopped when Haoniyao took his elbow and made him stand up. He discovered he still couldn’t really open his eyes; they still stung from the vile smoke of burning hair, so he didn’t see the knife coming that made small incisions on his eyelids. He gasped more in surprise than in pain, unaware of Bilbo doing the same. Then he felt the _sangoma_ smear something onto the cuts, but when he finally could open his eyes, all he could see was darkness.

“What has he done to my eyes?” Kili asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “What is going on? What...?” He broke off when he could feel Bilbo’s hands close around one of his.   
“Sit,” the hobbit said and guided him back to the sleeping mat he had been sharing with his brother.   
“Bilbo?” Kili’s voice suddenly sounded very small and afraid. “Please don’t tell me that this is...”  
“The sacrifice of the body?” Bilbo’s voice was shaking as well and broke when he continued. “I’m afraid it is.”

“Blind...?” Kili whispered tonelessly.   
“Kili...” Bilbo desperately tried to think of something comforting to say, but what could possibly be comforting in a situation like this?  
“No...” Kili’s voice was a dead, dry whisper. “Please not this...” 

He doubled over, but the anguished scream Bilbo expected never came. Kili just crumpled into a heap and buried his face into his blanket before going to pieces, and all Bilbo could do was run a soothing hand down his back while wiping his own tears away with the other.

* * *

Haoniyao had explained, his face mournful and voice low, that he had no real power over what exactly the spirits were demanding and how they took it. The brothers had expressed their willingness to sacrifice anything and that was exactly what had happened. He tried to assure them that the spirits bore no evil will and that all would fall into place again. Neither Bilbo nor Gandalf had taken it amiss when Kili's only reaction to these words had been a silent growl.

“But what good did it do?” Bilbo looked at Gandalf with red eyes and pale cheeks, his hair an unruly mess from all the worrying with his fingers. “What good will come out of this? As if the hair and beard wasn’t enough, they’re dwarves, after all, but this? One lost his voice and the other his sight...”  
“I know what they lost,” Gandalf interrupted him sharply. “And I am as unhappy, dissatisfied and angry as you are, master hobbit. They knew beforehand that a sacrifice was required and that despite this, no easy solution would ever be presented.”

Bilbo sighed in frustration. He cast a look at Kili who sat slumped in a corner with Kinaya sitting beside him, trying to offer comfort by gently rubbing an ointment onto the red and itching skin on his back. If Kili was hurt by the touch or not was impossible to tell by his face, it could well be that he just couldn’t be bothered to send her away. For the fifth time she took the cup she had tried to give to Kili and made another attempt in placing it between his hands, but there was no reaction.

Kinaya sighed and spoke to him in her low and rich, gentle voice.

“She says,” Gandalf said after a moment. “That after what you have gone through you should not give up now. Everything you have done, you did for your brother, and if you now chose not to live for your brother and for the chance of seeing him again then everything you and Fili have gone through will have been in vain.”

“Fili,” Kinaya said gently and nudged the cup. “ _Tafadhali._ ”

A small tremor ran through Kili’s body, and he finally closed his fingers around the cup and drank. 

With a smile, Kinaya left him and walked towards her master to exchange a few words in a low voice. She seemed to explain something to him at length while he nodded, nodded, and nodded again, the last time with a smile. They discussed whatever it was with lively gestures and fast words, too fast for Gandalf to understand more than that Kinaya would attempt to do some sort of magic of her own.

“Kinaya speak spirits,” Haoniyao tried to explain. “Kinaya...” he broke off with a frown. “No man?” He cupped his hands in front of his chest.   
“A woman?” Bilbo ventured.  
Haoniyao’s face lit up. “ _Ndiyo!_ Kinaya woman. Speak spirits other.”  
“Speaks to other spirits, or speaks to spirits differently?” Bilbo asked, slightly confused.  
“ _Ndiyo!_ Yes!” was Haoniyao’s cryptic reply, accompanied by a laugh. “Yes, she speak spirits other!”

Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a bemused look. 

“Day, Kili this world,” Haoniyao went on. “Fili, spirit world. Night, Fili this world, Kili spirit world.”  
“I am not sure I am with you,” Bilbo said slowly.   
Gandalf leaned back and bit down on his pipe.  
“Kinaya make... you sleep, you see, you feel?” Haoniyao frowned and scratched his head and switched into his own language to ask Gandalf.   
“Dream,” the wizard replied.

“Kinaya make dream,” the _sangoma_ went on and took a small stick. He sketched a circle into the dirt before him. “This world.” He added another beside it, and the two circles overlapped a tiny bit. “Spirit world”, Haoniyao said and pointed at the second circle. “Dream world.” He tapped the small space where the circles overlapped. “Kinaya make dream, Kili Fili see dream world.”

Kili slowly lifted his head, his empty, unseeing eyes darting across the room as if trying to find something to latch onto. His hands curled into fists, but otherwise, he did not move, not even when Kinaya knelt before him and popped her forefinger between his lips. 

She licked that finger clean – Bilbo was unable to suppress a shudder – and after a few more words, she went and began to prepare some sort of herbal concoction. 

**x-x-x**

When Fili had entered the dwelling that evening he instantly went for his pack and produced the writing tools that he and his brother had neglected for so long.

_Has my brother also lost his voice?_

Luckily, Gandalf could read dwarfish runes as in his haste, Fili had not thought about writing in Westron. He took a deep breath and after pressing his lips together for a moment, he shook his head. “No, Kili has not lost his voice. The... spirits requested another sacrifice. He...” Gandalf cleared his throat while meeting Fili’s slowly widening eyes. “He has lost his eyesight.”

Fili shook his head in dumbfounded denial. He could not speak, but his lips formed a single word that needed no sound to be clearly understood.

“Listen, Fili.” Bilbo was at his side and took his arm, pulling the dwarf down with him. “Before you despair, and I can very well understand why you would, listen to me, yes? I know this is terrible, but Kinaya... Kinaya says she can give you a dream so you can meet each other. Not just dream of each other, but actually meet. You would like that, wouldn’t you? Meet Kili?”  
Fili looked at the hobbit as if he was seeing him for the first time, but then he slowly nodded.   
“Good,” Bilbo gave back much more brightly than he felt. “She is ready whenever you are.”

Fili nodded again, and Kinaya approached him with a cup of the herbal draught she had prepared earlier. She surprised Fili by popping a finger into his mouth and licking it, but then she pressed the cup into his hand, urging him to drink. Fili nodded and did so, emptying the cup with the mild, bittersweet drink in one go. Kinaya took his shoulders and settled him down beside the wolf who was lying next to an empty bowl. He, too, had been given his share of the same draught.

It didn’t take long for Fili to fall asleep. Only to open his eyes again moments later.

There was nothing around him but a dim, grey light, it was like being trapped in a cloud. Someone called his name and he saw a figure approach him; it was Kinaya walking towards him through the strange silent fog. She smiled at him when she had reached him and held out her hand to him. 

Her hand felt solid, he realised, as solid as his own body felt and looked. Being here didn’t feel like a dream at all, but then he noticed that his hair and beard were back. This place and he himself felt nothing like a dream to him, although he could not deny that he was somewhere he had never been before.  
Kinaya stopped and bade him to wait, and he watched her disappear into the fog. 

Moments later she returned leading someone else, and Fili felt his heart suddenly burst in joy when he recognised his brother. 

“Kili!”  
Kili’s eyes widened and he tore himself away from Kinaya’s hand to fly into his arms. “Fili!”

For an endless moment they just stood and held on to each other. Both of them had prepared so many words to tell the other but no words were possible any more, and none were needed. Finally they loosened the embrace a bit to be able to look at one another, each of them trying to drown himself in the eyes of the other. 

“I miss you,” Kili whispered. “I’m sorry; I know how weak that sounds...”  
“I miss you too, _nadadith_ ,” Fili interrupted him gently, running his fingers through his brother’s unruly hair. “And if that’s a weakness then I no longer feel the desire to be strong.”  
Kili lowered his eyes as his brother caressed the long black tresses. “I am glad you don’t have to see me right now.”  
“Do you think I look any better?” Fili placed a finger under his brother’s chin, forcing Kili to look at him. “I cut off my hair, too.”  
“I know.” Kili swallowed. “And you lost your voice.”  
“And you lost your eyesight.”

Kili closed his hands around his brother’s arms. “What do we do now? What can we do now, Fili?”  
“I don’t know,” Fili replied with a sigh. “Supposedly the curse will break by itself now, only when it will do so, no one could tell me.”  
“But we cannot go home like this!”  
“I know.” Fili touched his brother’s forehead with his own. “We cannot go home like this, and I have little desire to walk the realms of Arda for the rest of my life like this either. Let us return to where the curse was cast.”  
“And if we are in Minas Tirith and the curse is still not broken?”

Fili met Kili’s eyes, and a long moment of silent understanding passed between the brothers. 

“Wherever we go...” Fili whispered finally.  
“...we will go together,” Kili finished for him. 

There was nothing left to say, and they cast one last look at each other as Kinaya took Kili’s hand to lead him away again. Fili then followed her back into his own body, more content and at peace than he had ever been since that fateful day in the East Bight.

The same was true for Kili, who silently spent the day with the hawk sitting on his shoulder, staring into the darkness that was now his world.

Bilbo watched the _sangoma_ and his apprentice pack a few things into a bag for them to take with them; among the things they packed were a few wooden balls, by the look of them. Bilbo took one of those and looked at the old man questioningly.

“Fruit.”Haoniyao chuckled and pretended to eat one. “Good!”  
Bilbo looked critically at the small wooden ball and tapped his finger against it. “And how do you suppose we eat these? With a hammer and chisel?”

The _sangoma_ gave him a big, hearty grin amidst his expression of utter incomprehension. Bilbo looked at Gandalf with an exasperated sigh and twitch of his nose.   
After Gandalf had translated Bilbo's question the _sangoma_ laughed again and knelt down to show Bilbo how to crack the fruit between two rocks. He carefully caught the two halves to show him the thick, red juice inside. 

“Drink!” He laughed. “Good!”  
Bilbo looked back and forth between the fruit in the _sangoma’s_ hand and his wrinkled face. “Why don't you drink it then?” He didn't feel confident trying something that was offered to him with that particular facial expression.

The old _sangoma_ broke out into a cackling laugh and threw the fruit away. “Me too old!” He got up and piled the other fruits onto Bilbo's arms. “Drink, good you young. You can...” He broke off and substituted the missing words with a few lewd thrusts of his hips accompanied by a rhythmic pumping motion of his arms. When he caught eyes of Bilbo again he doubled over laughing, pointing his finger at Bilbo and chortling out words that needed not translation to convey _You should see the look on your face right now_. Kinaya had joined the laughter too and when Bilbo spun around to glare at Gandalf the wizard was stroking his beard, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“Me old, no need.”Haoniyao cackled. “You young...”  
“I don't even...” Bilbo's face was on fire, as were his eyes.   
“Fili Kili give,” the _sangoma_ went on, completely unabashed. “They do dance with life, yes?  
“Well even if they did,” Bilbo snapped back, utterly scandalized, “It wouldn't be any of my business!”

With that, he spun around and unceremoniously dropped the fruits or whatever they were into the next bag he could reach. Still fuming, and with his ears burning, he stomped off and sat down beside Kili, radiating enough righteous indignation that even without seeing him Kili snorted softly under his breath.

“What was he on about?”  
“As if I!” Bilbo snapped.   
“As if you what?” Kili's lips twitched.   
“Nothing.”

Gandalf coughed and cleared his throat as he walked over to the tree in whose shadow Kili was sitting. “It seems the good _sangoma_ has offended Bilbo's sensibilities by offering him an aphrodisiac,” he said slowly.

Kili shook his head with a smile, but all too soon that smile vanished again. And watching him, Bilbo realised that however he might feel about it, he would gladly let himself be scandalized again if it brought a smile to Kili's face, no matter for how short a time. 

“You go home,” Haoniyao told them as a farewell. “Home. Hope, Fili Kili. Hope!”

When they left the _sangoma_ and his apprentice that evening – they had decided to travel at night to spare Kili dredging through the desert in his blindness – and after heartfelt farewells, the wolf followed Fili without a single word, keeping close to his heels and at his side whenever they rested. 

“And where are we going now, Gandalf?” Bilbo looked up at the wizard.  
“Back to Wakintu to retrieve our mounts,” Gandalf gave back. “And then we do as Haoniyao said, go back home. I know of no reason we should linger here.”  
“Home,” Bilbo said slowly, and the small green door in his mind turned into the enormous gates of Erebor. 

Then he looked at Fili, and at the small, wistful smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tafadhali_ : Please  
>  _Ndiyo_ : Yes
> 
> Source:http://goafrica.about.com/od/peopleandculture/a/swahili.htm


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be)

The people of Wakintu welcomed them like long-lost friends; full of joy to see them and yet mourning the fact that the _sangoma_ had not been able to help the brothers break the witch’s curse. It felt a little odd to have these people, hardly more than strangers, feel so deeply for them and with them; but they lived their emotions openly and freely. 

Bilbo watched them fuss about Kili, guiding him towards shade and touching his hands and shoulders, offering him water by pressing the cup gently between his fingers, some of the women even openly weeping for his loss of eyesight. Observing all these unguarded emotions, the hobbit realised he would not have been surprised upon discovering that lies or deceit did not exist among these people.

Their ponies had been well taken care of, and the next day they left these friendly people that had been so generous and helpful and who now were bidding them farewell with a song and dance that were, according to Gandalf’s understanding, meant to wish them well and beg good spirits to watch over them. Sitting in silence on his own mount, the reins slung around Bilbo’s saddle horn, Kili simply gritted his teeth upon hearing these words; he had enough of his share of spirits, good or evil alike.

Travelling north was easier than their journey southwards had been; they retraced their steps from so many weeks ago and when they finally crossed the river Harnen again they left palm trees, thorn bushes and the heat behind. The warmth had steadily given way to cooler nights and, as they were crossing into South Ithilien, to a coldness that turned their breath into misty clouds. From the oppressive heat at the edge of the desert towards the cold winter of Gondor in but a few weeks. 

For the first few days of their journey Bilbo had worriedly watched his dwarfish companion, but Kili had been silent and withdrawn, seemingly oblivious to heat and aridity and the sunburn on his suddenly so exposed scalp. And as opposed to their journey south, the hawk only rarely flew overhead and spent his days sitting on Kili’s shoulder, making the slightly unnerving impression of being Kili’s eyes. 

They reached the white city of Minas Tirith again some time after midwinter and passed the gates with little hope in their heavy hearts. They stabled their ponies, walked across the bazaar into the still abandoned quarter of the Haradrim, and finally they entered the empty house that smelled of dust and mildew, the only inhabitants still left there were rats and cockroaches.

The hawk on Kili’s shoulder got restless when the dwarf entered the small room at the end of the corridor where their damnation had been devised, but other than that, nothing happened. Nothing at all.

Before sundown Gandalf, Bilbo, Kili and the hawk had left the city again, silent in their grief and helplessness.

* * *

When Fili became aware of his surroundings again that night, he looked at the white city behind them – they had camped atop a small rise in the shelter of a few rocks – and a silent, heavy sigh heaved his shoulders. He sat down beside the wolf, buried his hands into the black fur, and as the wolf rested his head on Fili’s thigh a single tear escaped his eyes and vanished into the still brutally short beginnings of a new beard.

It was more than Bilbo could handle at this point; he sat down on a small rock and buried his face in his hands, letting his own tears out in helpless sobs. Gandalf stepped behind him and laid his hands onto the hobbit’s shoulders, but there was no comfort, no consolation coming from the wizard’s gentle touch.

Bilbo only managed to sleep a few hours that night because he was so exhausted, but when he crawled out of his blanket with still a good while until dawn, Fili was still sitting exactly how he had the evening before, with the wolf beside him, his head on Fili’s thigh. 

They broke their camp after sunrise, and Kili mounted in silence, the hawk on his shoulders, and they left Minas Tirith and the last bit of hope that had carried them onwards behind. 

“What now?” Bilbo finally dared to ask when it was long past noon. “What now, and where to?”  
Gandalf shook his head and looked at Kili. “We should take them home. Master Kili?”  
“Home.” Kili exhaled softly. “Whose home?”  
“Yours, I presume?” Bilbo asked, his voice the slightest bit unsteady.   
Kili took a deep breath. “Home. Yes, probably. We should head back to the mountain.”

Bilbo looked at Gandalf who could only shake his head.

* * *

They took the fastest way out of Gondor, keeping to the Harad Road past the Dead Marshes and then across the Battle Plain; dangerous country full of dark shadows and evil memories. Yet by chance or by Gandalf’s doing, Bilbo could not say, they did not encounter anything dangerous during those days and nights. But despite Bilbo’s best efforts, Kili had not spoken gain, not a single word, since that morning they had left Minas Tirith behind. 

The weeks that followed were cold and dark; made worse by snow and rain drenching everyone to their skin, chilling them to the bones, and turning the ground underfoot into dangerous, slippery mud. Both Kili and Fili were reminded of the last time they had made this trip, on their way back home from Minas Tirith, made miserable by the wet and cold weather. Yet a thing as mundane as weather, be it cold or rain, no longer bore any significance to either of the brothers. And while they had been eager to reach home back then, this time their reluctance grew with every single day they travelled north. 

“Where are we right now?” Kili asked one morning, about a week and a half after they had left North Ithilien.  
“West and a little north of the Sea of Rhun,” Gandalf replied. “And close to the borders of Mirkwood Forest.”  
“I didn’t realise we were already this far.” Kili cautiously reached out for the hawk who was sitting on his left wrist. The bird leaned into the touch of Kili’s forefinger and closed his eyes.  
“You do not... sound very eager to get home,” Bilbo said, swallowing hard.

“No,” Kili gave back after a moment. “I am not eager to get home.”  
The hawk chirruped.   
“West of Rhun, aye?”  
“You can see the Mountains from here, towards the eastern horizon,” Bilbo told the young dwarf.  
“Ered Gethrin,” Kili said, lost in thought. “There is a legend among my people... that dwarves once lived in these mountains, their name and heritage long lost to us. They are said to have perished during the first war against Sauron.”

Bilbo looked towards the east again and narrowed his eyes. “Gandalf? Do you know if there is any truth to that legend?”  
Gandalf pursed his lips in thought. “The dwarves were always a secluded people, and not forthcoming in sharing their history with strangers. But what I do know is that there was a dwarven host taking part in that battle. They got trapped between the enemy lines and completely annihilated as the relieving forces came too late. It could well be that those were the people of Ered Gethrin. It could also well be that there lies the beginning of the enmity between dwarves and elves.”

Kili was looking east, too, his unseeing eyes unnervingly still. “Can we head east for a bit?”  
“What... what would you want to the east?” Bilbo asked, nervously kneading his fingers.   
“See if the legends are true. I don’t think I will ever have the chance again.”  
“Why wouldn’t you...” Bilbo began and bit his tongue when Gandalf laid a hand on his arm.   
“It would mean a detour of a week, at least,” the wizard said. “Are you sure?”  
A strange smile had appeared on Kili’s lips, but it was not a smile Bilbo was happy about seeing. “Yes.”

So they headed east instead of further north that day, and to both Bilbo’s and Gandalf’s surprise Fili was in complete unanimity with his brother.

* * *

It was on the evening four days after they had turned west that Kili spoke again for the first time since that conversation.

“How far is it towards the mountains, do you think? Another two days, maybe?”  
“I would guess so,” Gandalf replied slowly. “Not much more than that.”  
“Then this is where we part,” Kili said “My brother and I will head east from here towards the mountains of Ered Gethrin.”  
“What do you mean your broth... wait... you can’t just...” Bilbo ran both hands through his hair. “What do you mean, this is where we part?”

Kili reached out with his right hand to touch the hawk sitting on his left. “It is over, Bilbo. There is nothing left for us. Don’t you understand?” A deep frown appeared on Kili’s forehead. “We cannot go home like this.”  
“But they will be happy to see you... Kili it’s been almost a year now that you left!”  
“I know.” Kili sighed. “But we cannot go home like this. Not with the animals preying on our minds... don’t think I am not aware of what is happening inside my own mind. The sense of smell and hearing was only the beginning, and you know that, too. There are many things, small changes, but changes I can’t resist.”  
“But Kili...” Bilbo cast a helpless look at Gandalf.   
“Kili,” Gandalf now joined in. “It will break your mother’s heart.”

Kili looked up, lips parted in a silent growl. “And don’t I know that?” He slowly got up, the hawk expertly balancing on his wrist. “Look at us! Half animal and half dwarf is what we are! And we are Erebor’s heirs! But if this kingdom is to survive then it will need a king who isn’t an animal most of the time! That alone would be a reason never to come back! Yes, it will break my mother’s heart, but seeing us like this will not only break it, it will shatter it into a thousand shards and ground them into dust! We can’t stop what is happening to us, Gandalf! And I will not force this onto them as well!”

“But they will take care of you!” Bilbo cut in desperately.

“Yes, they will! And that is what we don’t want! I don’t want them to care for me once the wolf has taken over completely and I am crawling around on all fours, growling at strangers and eating out of a bowl!” He wiped his wet cheeks. “And my brother doesn’t want it either, them being forced to tie him down because he perches on top of rocks flapping his arms! Maniacs is what we will become! Dwarves who think and act like animals! I will not let that happen and neither will my brother.” He took a rasping breath. “I do not want them to see me like this.”

“But... but Fili?” Bilbo made no attempt at trying to steady his voice. “What about him?”  
“I know my brother’s mind.” Kili closed his eyes. “As well as he knows mine. And we will die as dwarves, not as animals. We will die in the mountains like dwarves, with rock surrounding us, looking death in the eye, like dwarves, and not as crawling, mindless creatures.”

A heavy silence surrounded them after Kili’s last words. 

“Gandalf...” Bilbo whispered finally. “We cannot let that happen... there must be something... anything...”  
“We did all we could,” Gandalf said, his voice rough and his eyes moist. “And even if I had stayed with the _sangoma_ and studied his magic carefully and diligently for many years, time we do not have and never had, there would be no guarantee that I would be able to do any more than he already did. It was a chance, Bilbo, a small chance. But it led to nothing.”  
“But we can’t just let them kill themselves!” Bilbo yelled at him. “We can’t! We have to do something!”  
“Bilbo,” Kili interjected gently. “There is nothing anyone can do anymore.”  
“But...”

“You have a big and generous heart, Master Baggins,” Kili said with a wistful smile. “But there is no more to be done. All you can do for us is remember us as we were. I can never express my gratitude over what you have done for us, all the help and kindness and encouragement. But it is over now. The last and only thing left to us is ending it on our own terms. It is the last bit of control over our life that is left to us. Please... please tell us that you will not begrudge us that.”  
“I do not begrudge it,” Bilbo said with a soft sob. “But it breaks my heart.”

Kili gently shucked the hawk off his hand so the bird landed on the ground. He opened his arms and Bilbo stepped into his embrace.

“Thank you for everything, Bilbo,” Kili muttered into the hobbit’s curly hair. “Thank you. Tell my mother that we love her. She will cry, but she will understand.”  
Bilbo stepped back when Kili released him, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Farewell,” he croaked.   
Kili gave him a gentle smile. “Farewell, Master Baggins.”Then he held out his hands again. “Gandalf?”  
The wizard took his hands, pressing his lips tightly together. “I can’t express my sorrow at not being able to help.”  
“It was not your fault,” Kili replied. “I thank you though, from the bottom of my heart, for all that you did. You rendered possible our only hope, and it’s not your fault it led to nothing.”

Kili squeezed his hands and stepped back. The sun was touching the horizon.

* * *

When Fili opened his eyes again he saw the tears on Bilbo’s face and Gandalf’s mournful look. 

“Your brother has bid his farewells to us,” Gandalf said. 

Fili looked back and forth between the two and at the writing utensils Gandalf was holding out to him. 

_There is not much left to say or do, he wrote. We cannot return home like this. Erebor needs healthy heirs, not ones that will slowly and inevitably succumb to madness._

“And your mother?” Gandalf asked gently.

 _It will break her heart, but she will know that in the end, it was the only thing we could do. We do not want to become a burden to their lives and their hearts should the animals take over completely and turn us into creatures of a nightmare who look like dwarves and act like beasts._

“So you will go to EredGethrin.” It was not a question.

 _We will die in the mountains, with rocks surrounding us, as dwarves should._

“There will be no grave to mourn you.” Gandalf closed his hand around Fili’s shoulder.

The young dwarf shot him a bitter, mirthless smile before bringing the quill back down again.

_They will need no grave to mourn us. Once we have finally left this cursed existence behind we will no longer care what happens to our bodies. We do not care if our flesh rots in a tomb or under the sun and stars for we are no longer there to feel it. It will be nothing but a relief. It is the last thing left to us to make sure the curse will not consume us. To end it before that can happen._

He looked up at the sound of Bilbo’s sobbing and smiled sadly. 

_Master Baggins. Dear Bilbo, you were a true friend to us. Dry your tears and remember us as we were before. Think of us being together again, there on the other side. We will take the memory of your kindness and generosity with us so it will be forever told. Farewell, my dear Bilbo. You too, Gandalf. You did what you could for us, and it is no fault of yours that it was not enough. Farewell._

He then took another sheet of paper and wrote more, dwarven runes this time, and in Khuzdul too. The runes were not as steady and neat as he would have liked, and he had no sigil to seal it. So instead he sketched his and his brother’s sigil below the last line and folded the paper before handing it to Gandalf.

“Is this for your mother and uncle?”  
Fili nodded.   
“They will get it, you have my word on that.”

Fili nodded and began to gather his brother’s clothing into a bag that he slung around his shoulder. But he took no more than a single, large knife. He took the quill for the last time.

_Bring our weapons home._

“We will,” Gandalf said. Beside him, Bilbo was in tears, sobbing so hard he was hardly able to utter a farewell.

They watched Fili, the wolf at his side, leave their camp to head east, towards the mountains of Rhun, to find the peace that life no longer could give them. It was after Fili had finally vanished out of sight that Bilbo took a deep, shaky breath.

“Farewell, Fili and Kili,” he said in a cracked voice. “May your memory never fade.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be)

Fili did no longer miss not being able to speak. During the rest of the night, with the wolf beside him, he had no longer anyone he needed to speak to. In wolf or dwarf form, his brother knew his mind and there was no need for words. 

They travelled east until shortly before sunrise, when Fili found a small hollow in the undulating ground that would keep his brother out of the wind. He could not build a fire as there was no tree in sight, so he put his cloak on top of Kili’s instead beside his clothes. His own clothes folded into the bag, Fili knelt down beside the wolf and put one paw on the stack of clothing. 

He then left the hollow and looked down at the black wolf, meeting the amber eyes with a sigh. He hated to leave his brother alone in his helpless state, but being as there was nothing, no living thing, for as far as the eye could see, he should be safe enough. Fili looked north, narrowing his eyes, but in the grey first light of dawn even his sharp eyes could not make out any more than the dark line of Mirkwood towards north-west. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. 

When Kili opened his eyes moments later he could feel fabric under his left hand. With a grateful smile for his brother he began to dress, and after a few careful pats he found his cloak, and Fili’s too. Huddled in two layers of dwarven wool he settled down to wait for sunset. Cold or hunger had no meaning anymore.

Thus the two brothers travelled for two more nights; through a landscape that was steadily becoming more uneven, steadily rising towards the line of mountains, with Kili waiting in whatever more or less sheltered spot his brother had been able to find during the nights. Come nightfall, Fili and the wolf were again on their way towards the jagged summits guarding the Sea of Rhun.

* * *

It was raining again, a vicious downpour that drenched both Fili and the wolf through and through as they began to climb the rocky slopes; the ground underfoot made difficult and slippery by the slick mud and wet stone. It was a slow and laborious ascent in the darkness of night made worse by the clouds and rain. At one point, however, the rain ebbed off into a drizzle and as Fili climbed a few large boulders that looked as if they might have once been shaped by a hand, he suddenly had reached the top of a large rocky plateau. The wolf, who had simply jumped the gaps between the rocks with his long muscular legs, was already waiting for him.

Fili stood a while to catch his breath back as he looked around. The rain had almost ceased, and the wind had torn the first few gaps into the clouds. The moon was waxing so occasionally there was a little more light to see by, and Fili cautiously approached a structure that even in the dim light looked a little too square and regular to be natural.

It was about six yards across and square, and as Fili walked around it, tracing his hands across the uneven surface, he could feel the lines and edges of the stones, the joints between them and the moss that was covering the gaps where mortar was crumbling away. His eyes had not deceived him, this was a structure built by mortal hand. And the way the neat broken joints still sat, even after the mortar was almost gone in places, told him that had been the hands of his own people. Dwarven work lasts long, be it ironworks or masonry. 

Having surrounded the remnant of the building Fili found a gap in the wall where he assumed the entrance had been. Given that they were on top of a cliff overlooking the Sea of Rhun this might have well been a watchtower in whose foundation Fili now stood. Above him were stars and clouds torn and ragged by the wind, but even without a roof this place was a better shelter than most places. It was windless inside and, Fili suddenly realised, they would need no more shelter after the next dusk. Dawn was not far away and he did not want to risk a mistake made by haste. 

He sat down, his back to the wall, solid stone carved and built by dwarven hands; their names and stories long forgotten. But something remained, and within these remains, he and his brother would finally find their rest as well. It might not be a gilded sarcophagus in the hallowed tombs of Erebor, but it was better than nothing at all. True, Fili had said neither he nor his brother cared about their decaying flesh, but the thought of coming to lie here amongst stones shaped by dwarves was comforting.

The wolf had shaken most of the water out of his fur and now padded over, sniffed a bit into the corners and settled down beside Fili, nudging his head into his lap.

With a smile, Fili carded his fingers through the rich dark fur, imagining it to be Kili’s dark, unruly hair. His vision blurred at that as he became aware that it was final – he would never touch his brother’s hair again.

With a shudder he ran one hand over his own head; the hair was hardly longer than two fingers’ breadth. Dwarf hair grows slow, he was aware of the fact, and that it was one reason dwarves were so horrified at cutting off beard and hair because as opposed to humans, it didn’t grow back in a few weeks or months. His beard still felt too short and he figured that he would need three years, more likely four, before his hair would be what it had been.   
A small smile twitched his lips. It didn’t matter anymore. No one would ever see him like this again. Not even his brother, even if he had to admit that to be able to see him once more, even just to say goodbye, would have been worth the shame. But it wasn’t meant to be.

When the first grey of dawn began to fight against the dark clouds Fili undressed, stacked his brother’s clothes beside the wolf, realising as he did so that he would never do it again. Tonight. Tonight, this horror would end. No more shape shifting, no more eating raw flesh. No more heart-rending longing for someone who was so close and yet forever out of reach. The thought of killing his brother, his beloved Kili, broke his heart, it physically hurt him just to think about it. But he also knew that it wouldn’t hurt for long. 

With a deep breath, Fili climbed the remnant of the wall, shuddering when his skin was suddenly exposed to the cold wind again. Towards the west he could see the Sea of Rhun, and also that the plateau ended in a sudden drop about ten yards away from the tower. How deep it went down Fili couldn’t see, but he could see a part of the shore far down below. The cliff did almost reach the water’s edge, and it had to be a drop of some forty, fifty yards. 

He then turned towards the north and narrowed his eyes, hoping for one last glance, putting all his force of will into the eyes of the hawk that had been of so little use to him during the night. But maybe, maybe in this small moment of just enough light before sunrise, maybe he could catch a glimpse of the mountains to the north. Maybe...

It was too far away. He could spot the silver line of the River Running coming from the north, and he followed that line until it vanished in the foggy infinity. Somewhere up there it would be born by the Long Lake, and a bit further north was the mountain overlooking the lake, Mirkwood and the empty grasslands. He remembered his first view of the Lonely Mountain, back then on the Carrock, a single peak rising out of the grey mist beyond Mirkwood, and he envisioned it there, at the northern edge of his vision, until the tears washed the image away and the rays of the rising sun made him forget.

Kili looked up as he heard the hawk shriek above, and he felt his chest tighten at the sound. It seemed to him that the hawk had never sounded so mournful and sad. He huddled himself into his and his brother’s cloak and closed his eyes again. As he reached out he could feel a wall and leaned against it, and as his fingers ran across the stone he realised that it was masonry he was feeling. So his brother had found some remnant of the dwarves of Ered Gethrin, for no Man could build something that would still stand after so long a time. He smiled at the thought. 

_This is it_ , he thought. _This is the last day of my life. Tonight, I will see my brother again. When I open my eyes in the Halls of Mahal, I will see him again._

He felt hot tears on his cold cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them away. He kept thinking of his mother and uncle, how they had suffered and grieved with them as they had sent them on their way, a year ago, to find a cure for this curse. They would grieve and suffer even more, but Kili knew that eventually, they would understand. He made a few silent farewells; to his mother, his uncle, to all the friends of the Company, each and every one of them as steadfast a companion as anyone could ever have wished for. He knew that had they asked, they would all have come along to help them carry their burden, but this particular burden had been theirs alone to bear. 

In his mind he suddenly saw his brother, a laughing boy on his way to adolescence, bare tufts of hair adorning his jaw line. He called his name, and Kili took his hand and they ran, the wind in their hair as they laughed, warm grass under their bare feet.   
He saw Fili on his coming of age ceremony, and on Kili’s, too. Durin’s Day celebrations and gifts they had given and received. Their mother’s eyes, shining with pride and moist with the pain of saying farewell to her sons.

Tossing plates in Bag End... Kili chuckled and wiped his eyes. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for a single pint of Hobbit ale and a pipe full of Old Toby. 

Trolls, spiders, orcs and eagles... He shook his head. To have survived all that, to have survived the battle, and at what cost... he thought of his own torment and of Fili’s; of what he must have suffered being bound and in pain, not knowing if he would ever leave this bed again. 

Kili’s mind shied away from what came next, the blissful happiness that had followed, for a short time everything had been perfect. But then he took a deep breath and let the memories come, relishing every laugh and every kiss he could remember, trying to be grateful for what they had had, and not screaming in denial thinking about what had been taken from them. It wasn’t easy, but Kili was by now too tired to fight his tears. At one point he was so spent he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, and being as it didn’t make a difference if they were open or closed he let his eyelids drop as he rested his head against the wall at his back.

The shriek of the hawk made him jerk awake... he had dozed off. His last day, and he had fallen asleep. 

A bitter little chuckle escaped him as he slowly got up. The woollen cloaks he had wrapped himself in fell to the ground and with his hand trailing the wall Kili slowly inched his way forward until he found the gap in the wall. From then on, there was nothing to guide him, so he took one step after the other, cautious and slow. The wind chilled his skin and he could hear the roaring of the surf on the rocks before him. Another harsh, high-pitched shriek of the hawk made him stop, and as he slowly went down into a crouch, he realised he was only one step away from an edge, and as he bend forward, he could only feel a drop. How far would it go?

He found a stone about as big as his fist and dropped it, and strained his ears against the breaking of waves, but he never heard the stone hit the ground. Somewhere down there was the water’s edge, and since he had not heard the stone hit a rock anywhere it would have to be a sheer drop. Thirty feet, maybe? Twenty, or maybe even fifty, it was impossible to tell. But far enough.

And Kili suddenly felt the urge to just take another step, just step into the cold, merciful embrace of oblivion to spare his brother having to kill him. He slowly got onto his feet again, the wind caressing his face and sifting through the cropped remnants of his hair.

* * *

see the ground coming close, _feel_ the wind that carried him, something he had never felt before. 

For some strange reason, this one time his awareness had returned to him two or three heartbeats before his body had changed, and the feeling frightened him like nothing ever had before. True, no dwarf was really comfortable with heights, but Fili had to admit that ever since Ravenhill even the thought of heights made him break out in cold sweat.

These three heartbeats had also seemingly been enough to disturb the hawk’s balance as he hadn’t landed smoothly but hit the ground forcefully and painfully, in a tumble of limbs and ending panting on his back. He had started turning back in mid-air, and the thought made his stomach clench in fear.

As he now staggered back onto his feet again, sore and covered in scrapes, he felt utter confusion as he looked around. The light around him was dim, given that there were few clouds in the sky, but the sun was far from touching the horizon. He stretched his aching arms as he turned and looked up, and his heart froze in his chest.

He saw his brother, his Kili, and yet it was no illusion of his mind, as his hair was as brutally cropped as Fili’s own. 

And above him, the orb of the sun, covered by a dark, round shadow.

He couldn’t look at it for more than a second or two before his eyes burned, but there it was, before his eyes. The sun was still up in the sky, but it was hidden behind something entirely different than a cloud. Neither shining nor not shining... 

...and his brother...

Kili was standing directly at the edge, before the sheer drop of forty feet and Fili was shaken by a violent shiver that made him gasp. He wanted to call out, wanted to shout a warning, tell him to stop.... and he couldn’t. He started to run, he could see him carefully stepping forward, as if he knew that there was the edge. Was he aware? Did he know? Was he... was he planning on throwing himself to his death to spare Fili killing him?

_No, Kili, Kili don’t..._

Fili was running, but he knew he could never reach him in time. It was when he watched Kili spread his arms as if he was trying to fly that his instinct took over, without thinking he slipped thumb and forefinger of his right hand between his lips. The shrieking whistle echoed in the silence and Kili froze for a second, only to spin around with hands half raised.

“Who’s there...?” His hands curling into fists Kili took a hesitant step forward, his eyes wide and darting back and forth. “Who is there?” There was no attempt at bravery; his fear was both visible and audible. It broke Fili’s heart to see his brother so helpless, alone and afraid, and he couldn’t even call out to him for comfort. He slowed down, more out of breath than the short sprint accounted for, and willed his brother to understand. 

“Who is there? Who are you? What do you want?” Kili’s body had seemingly unconsciously adapted a fighter’s stance, but he knew he would never stand a chance. Behind him was the abyss, and before him only darkness. Darkness, and the sound of wind, the sound of the waves. And the sound of footsteps.

Watching Kili broke Fili’s heart again, listening to his voice, seeing his face, was all he had wanted for so long, and now he was about to watch his brother fall to his death because he couldn’t call out to him. Kili had heard him, but there was no way Fili could let him know it was him. Due to his blindness Kili was completely oblivious to the eclipse of the sun, so he had no idea that whoever it was he could hear might be his brother. 

Fili stopped, and his tongue darted out between his lips as he frantically thought about a solution. As he did so, his breath escaped him in a hiss, and after swallowing hard he arranged his lips and exhaled between open lips and almost locked teeth, producing a soft, hissing whistle that almost sounded like the shriek of a bird of prey, albeit from far away.

Kili heard the whistle and froze. Something cold began to coagulate in his gut as he tried to process what this sound could mean. A shrieking whistle. Then footsteps. And then this... the sound of a...

“Fili?” It was a whisper, hoarse and almost inaudible, and his knees began to tremble as he heard the footsteps again, coming closer. Until the other person was standing directly before him, so close that Kili could hear him breathe, could feel the warmth radiating off the body. Something touched his hand. And fingers closed around his.

“Fili...” He reached out with his other hand and found a face, traced the features with his fingers, every curve and line familiar even without his sight. 

To hear his name again, to hear Kili’s voice again, hear him call his name, was almost more than Fili could bear. He needed all his force of will to take the few steps needed to close the gap between them, his legs almost too weak to carry him. He could not speak his brother’s name, so he cautiously reached out and took one of his hands. It was when Kili reached out to him, his face wet with tears, his beautiful brown eyes wide and helplessly searching for a face he could not see, that Fili’s heart broke again, for the third and final time. His tears broke free as his brother’s fingers touched his cheek, ghosting over his face to trace every feature, to feel what he could no longer see.

His own hand trembling Fili reached out to touch Kili’s cheek, but at that moment Kili tore his hand from Fili’s grip and pulled him close with a sob. Their arms locked around each other they held on for dear life, tears spilling freely, Fili shedding his in utter silence while Kili wept openly. 

After a time they could not measure Kili finally leaned back and pressed his forehead against his brother’s.

“What is this? Is this it? Is it truly over? And why now?”  
Fili sighed and could only shake his head. How could he possibly let him know?  
Kili took a deep, shaky breath. “You cannot answer...” Another sob escaped him, anguish now paired with anger and helpless frustration. “You cannot answer me! You can no longer speak and no amount of writing or _Iglishmek_ is ever going to be of use again because I cannot see it!” He tore himself away and turned around, only to fall onto his knees after a single step. 

Wiping at his own tears Fili knelt down beside him and slung his arms around his brother’s shoulders. What he wouldn’t give to be able to talk to him! But it was true, Kili could neither see his gestures or read runes. It was then that he remembered the gentle touches of Kili’s fingers on his face as he had traced his features. Fili swallowed hard, but after a deep breath, he took Kili’s hand and turned it palm upward.

Kili calmed a little as he turned his head towards Fili and his left hand. 

With slow, measured moves of his forefinger, Fili drew a rune onto Kili’s palm.

Kili stilled and lowered his face as if he was trying to look at his hand. Fili slowly drew the rune again.

“Are you...” Kili wiped his other hand across his face. “Are you trying to... write on my hand?”  
He could hear Fili sigh.   
Kili bit his lower lips and swallowed. “Tap once for yes and twice for no.”  
Fili tapped the base of Kili’s thumb once.

Their foreheads touched as they leaned over Kili’s hand, with Kili’s eyes closed in concentration even if it no longer made a difference, and Fili’s face locked in a deep frown as he drew the runes on Kili’s hand.

“S...” Kili swallowed. “U... N... Sun?”  
 _Yes_  
“D...” Kili had to suppress a strange, unbidden laughter trying to force its way out of his throat. “Dark?”  
 _Yes_

“Sun... dark...” Kili chewed his lower lip. “Sun dark?”  
Fili reached out, took both of Kili’s hands and held them in front of Kili’s face.   
“What?” Kili dropped his hands, and suddenly his face lit up. “An eclipse! Is that what you mean? An eclipse of the sun?”  
 _Yes_

Fili was unable to gauge what was going on in Kili’s mind after that. There was a maelstrom of emotions.

“Mahal’s mercy!” Kili threw his arms around Fili and pulled him close. “But what... what if the... what if we turn back once the sun comes out again? Fili! I can’t lose you again!”

Fili dug his fingers so hard into Kili’s arms he left dents in his flesh as a violent shudder ran through his body. 

“Fili, we need to do it now!” Kili staggered onto his feet and pulled Fili up with him. “Before the sun will... if we do it now we can go together! I don’t want to turn into an animal again! I want to be with you! And if I can only be with you to die with you then so be it! Fili please...!”

Fili cradled his brother’s face in his hands and placed a soft and tender kiss onto his trembling lips. He took his hands and slowly wrote the runes onto Kili’s palm.

“We go,” Kili whispered. “We go together?”  
 _Yes_

The edge was only three steps away and Fili led his brother there with a strange calmness in his mind. The sun was still dark but anytime now the shadow had to pass, and he would not risk turning back into an animal. Being torn apart again. Being forced to kill him, have his blood on his hands after all. The wind whipped around them as they stepped into each other’s embrace, one last kiss, and one last step towards the edge. Against his cheek, Fili could feel his brother’s heartbeat, fast and hard. He placed a tender kiss onto the fluttering pulse point and turned towards the edge. 

And then Fili made a mistake.

He opened his eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be)

Fili opened his eyes.

And at that moment, as he looked down at the almost vertical cliff, the wind became a cold, bitter gust. The jagged rocks below turned into flagstones. And the arm around his shoulder into a deathly grip of hate and scorn. 

“Fili?” Kili could feel his brother turn rigid, could smell the sudden acrid stench of terror as sweat broke out all over Fili’s body.

The harsh, frightening sounds of black speech that he did not need to understand to know that he had just been declared dead. 

The pain. The drop.

The drop...

The harsh, dry rasp coming from his lips would have been a scream as Fili tore himself away from his brother. He staggered back, away from the edge, numb and blind and deaf to his surroundings. The pain was biting into his abdomen and he could feel the lurching sensation of falling, the agony of hitting the flagstones, feel every bone in his body break...

He curled up into a ball with a soundless whimper.

Kili felt his stomach drop as his brother suddenly tore away from him. He could hear Fili take a few unsteady steps and also heard him collapse to the ground. Following the sound of his breathing he knelt down beside him, felt the cold, rigid muscles and also that he was curled up in a foetal position. Fili’s shoulders were shaking in silent sobs.

“Fili...” 

He felt his own tears sting in his eyes; this was Fili, his brother, he had never been afraid.... and the thought of seeing him reduced to a small bundle of terror broke Kili’s heart. He lowered himself down beside his brother, curling around him, closing his arms around his shoulders and resting his head against his, temple to temple. He had no idea what was happening to his brother, only that Fili was suddenly terrified. Mortally so.

“It’s all right, Fili.” He pressed against him, lips against Fili’s ear. “It’s all right, _nadad_ , I’m here. I’m here.” Kili wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right thing to do, but after a few moments, he felt the shivers in Fili’s body subside. 

Kili remained curled around his brother, grateful for his larger frame, grateful for the fact he could keep Fili snug against him and maybe help him break free of whatever nightmare he was trapped in. He thought back of the moment it had happened. At the edge of the cliff... had Fili remembered Ravenhill?

A gust of cold wind made him shudder and he could hear Fili take a deep, shaky breath. Then he turned around and buried his face in Kili’s shoulder. Arms locked around each other they held on, heartbeat to heartbeat, cold and wind almost forgotten.

How much time had passed Kili couldn’t say, but suddenly his thoughts caught up with him.

“Fili,” he whispered. “Fili, is the sun still dark?”

It took Fili a while to uncurl himself out of Kili’s tight embrace, and he slowly took his hand with trembling fingers. He tapped the base of Kili’s thumb. Twice.

“So the eclipse is over...” A shudder caused by something entirely different than cold ran through his body and he could feel Fili shiver beside him, too. “And you haven’t turned back.” He could feel Fili shake his head. 

It was a few moments before Fili inhaled deeply and somewhat moistly, and wiped a hand across his face. Slowly and laboriously he peeled himself out of Kili’s embrace and took his hand to help him up. They embraced again before Fili took his brother’s hand to lead him to the remains of the building they had taken shelter in. His fingers were still weak and trembling, as were his legs, but he helped Kili dress and dressed himself. Then they huddled together, wrapped in their cloaks and arms clasped around each other like frightened children.

At one point, Kili could feel his brother shift. Trembling fingers took his hand and he felt the traces of runes on his palm.

“Night.” Kili swallowed heavily. “Nightfall? The sun has set... and I haven’t... turned into a wolf...”  
Two taps on the base of his thumb. And more runes.  
“Together,” Kili whispered, his voice breaking. “It’s over...”

They wrapped their arms around each other again and burrowed deeper into their cloaks, sharing their tears that this time, were borne by relief. Utter, heartrending relief.

* * *

They had not fallen asleep like this, huddled together into a bundle of limbs, since they had been children. As it was, this was the only way they could find rest; they could not let go of each other.

They dreamed, if it was a dream at all. They both had been here before, in this grey, featureless infinity. But this time it was both of them, standing side by side. They exchanged a look, seeing each other as they remembered; no cropped hair, no emptiness in tired eyes. They exchanged a smile, took each other’s hand. 

In the fog, something moved. Something came closer. A dark shadow at first, but then, as it emerged from the fog before them, it was a large, black wolf. Above him, the hawk swooped into view.

Without thinking Kili lifted his arm, but the hawk passed him by and headed for Fili instead. Puzzled, Fili copied his brother’s gesture and the hawk landed on his arm, wings outstretched, yellow-amber eyes meeting Fili’s in an unsettling stare.

Kili slowly went down into a crouch and met the eyes of the wolf standing before him.

“He’s beautiful,” Fili whispered beside him.   
Kili looked up and smiled, a little sad, at his brother who was staring at the bird on his arm, completely enraptured. “Yes. He is beautiful.”  
Catching the tremor in Kili’s voice Fili tore his eyes away from the hawk to look at his brother. “It’s not his fault.”  
The corners of Kili’s mouth curled upwards. “Of course not.” Then he looked at the wolf, amber eyes, rich shaggy fur, black and shining. “He’s beautiful, too.”

Cautiously, Kili reached out to touch the wolf, running his fingers through the fur along the neck as the animal allowed it. The wolf blinked slowly, still looking at Kili with the same intensity as the hawk looked at Fili.

“Do you think they are free now, too?” Fili asked after a moment.  
Kili looked into the wolf’s amber eyes and dropped his hand. “I’ve never thought of them that way.”

Fili looked at the hawk again who was balancing on his forearm, wings still outstretched. Then he looked at his brother and as Kili looked up and their eyes met, they shared a smile.

“Fly,” Fili said to the hawk and lifted his arm. “You’re free now.” 

And the hawk beat his wings, pushed himself away from Fili’s arm and vanished into the grey nothingness around them, his shriek fading into the distance.

“Run,” Kili whispered to the wolf. “Run. You’re free. Run!”

The wolf backed off, then he threw back his head and howled. He cast one last glance at Kili and turned around to trot back into the fog. When he had vanished, Kili got up again and the two brothers shared a smile.

Reaching out they took each other’s hand, their fingers entwining, and stepped closer to each other. 

“We’re free, too,” Fili whispered.   
“Free,” Kili echoed softly. “It’s been so long I can scarcely believe it.” Then he reached out to touch his brother’s face. “And as long as I can be with you I shall never forget your face or the sound of your voice.”  
Fili swallowed hard. “If I could sacrifice the light of my eyes to give you yours back I’d do it.”  
“And I would give my voice for you, you know that.” Kili smiled wistfully. “And I know that won’t happen. But we’re not animals anymore. We’re together.”

Fili was just about to answer when suddenly, the grey fog around them turned into darkness. Within a heartbeat, there was nothing left around them but infinite, frightening emptiness.

“Kili?” Fili spun around, but there was no sign of his brother, until he heard his voice, call his name from far, far away. “Kili? Kili! KILI!”

“Fili!”

They found themselves awake, clasped in each other’s arms and still trembling. 

“Fili...” Kili pressed his face against his brother’s shoulder. “Fili, I thought you were gone, please don’t leave me... not again.”  
Fili ran a soothing hand through Kili’s hair, soft and with a hint of curls despite the shortness. “ _Nadadith_...”  
Kili jerked upright and stared at his brother who returned the stare with equally wide eyes.

“Fili...” A husky whisper. “You can speak?”  
“And you can see?” Fili whispered back and reached out to cup his brother’s cheek. “Can you see me?”  
An incredulous smile spread on Kili’s face, and tears welled out of his eyes, trickling down his cheeks. “Yes,” he whispered, barely audible. “Yes, I can see you...” He almost choked on a sob he tried to suppress. “I can see you, _nadad_...”

Then he fell forward against his brother’s chest with a sob and Fili closed his arms around him, his cheek pressed against Kili’s crown. “ _Nadadith_...” He whispered. “ _Givashel_... my love, my heart, my soul...”  
“Don’t stop,” Kili sobbed into the fur collar of Fili’s tunic. “Don’t ever stop talking to me.”  
“I guess at one point I have to,” Fili replied with a gentle chuckle, voice still low and breathy, as if he didn’t really dare to use it. “But now I can say your name whenever I want to.”  
“Say it, please...”  
“Kili,” he whispered, his voice holding a smile. “Kili, my Kili, my brother...”

Kili finally wrenched away from his older brother at that and reached out to rest his hands on Fili’s cheeks. “How have we survived this?”  
Fili swallowed hard and shook his head. “I don’t know. Hope, and stubbornness, I gather. It was a near thing, though.”  
Kili’s face darkened. “I know... I don’t want to think about it.” Then he met Fili’s eyes again. “What happened? Did you... did you remember...”  
“Ravenhill,” Fili whispered hoarsely. “Yes, I was back at Ravenhill. I could feel myself fall... and I could feel my body hit the flagstones.” His eyes widened and Kili could see the terror in them, see the shaking breaths that were hard and heavy, all of a sudden. “I could... feel every bone in my body break...the pain...” Fili closed his eyes. “And I could hear his voice before I fell.”

Kili ran his thumbs across his brother’s cheekbones. “It’s over now. Ravenhill is just a memory.”  
“It’s more than a memory to me,” Fili rasped, eyes still closed.   
“A nightmare then,” Kili gave back. “A curse, if you will. But I am here now with you, and I will be with you through every nightmare, and I will hold you and dispel the dark and evil memories until they give up and leave you be.”  
“Hold me.” It was a hardly audible whisper, but Kili closed his arms firmly around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him close and he remained like that until Fili’s tremors had stopped and his breathing calmed.

Not long after, the sun rose above the walls of their meagre shelter, bathing Kili’s face in milky light that held no real warmth yet. Fili stirred in his arms and sat up; then he looked up at the sun and broke into tears again.

“I haven’t seen the sun in a year,” he sobbed, “I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is.”  
Kili wordlessly slung his arms around him again. 

When they were finally able to untangle themselves from each other and get up the sun had risen a good bit above the walls. There was nothing else left now in that small square that had once been a building made by dwarves but the empty bag and Fili’s single knife. He slowly walked over and picked it up to fasten it on his belt. He ran his fingers over the embossed lines on the leather sheath with a sigh.

“I’ve a mind to let it lie here and forget about it,” he said. “But it’s the only weapon we have.”  
“It’s a token,” Kili replied gently. “We’ve survived.”  
“We survived.” Fili smiled and took a deep breath. 

They clasped hands as they turned north then, following the silver line of the river with their eyes.

“It’s going to be a long journey,” Kili said.   
“Yes, but we will make it together.”  
They exchanged a look and a smile.   
“Let’s go home, _nadadith_ ,” Fili said and tugged at Kili’s hand.

* * *

After the descent down from the rocky plateau they followed the coastline north until they reached the river on the fourth day. They had slept in whatever sheltered spots they had been able to find, huddled together, sharing their cloaks and their warmth. Now, following the river across the wide, open and seemingly endless plains of Rhovanion, shelter was no longer to be found. 

Following the river, they had at least clean water, but even with the sturdiness of dwarves their fight against the hunger was getting harder with every day. It was early spring but on the empty plain, the only thing that was beginning to grow now was the grass that looked like and endless sea of green as the wind rippled the surface. 

With their only tool and weapon being Fili’s single knife they had to use it carefully, and Kili used it only once to sharpen the ends of a forked branch. It took him two days of painstaking failure until he managed to catch a trout, and by then they were hungry enough to not care about eating it raw.   
Later that same day, they were lucky again and roused a duck that had started nesting. They didn’t catch the bird, but there were three eggs in the nest, and they took one each.

“I can’t stop thinking about mother’s mutton stew,” Kili said after he had swallowed the cold and slimy contents of the raw egg. “I think it’s going to drive me mad.”  
Fili shook his head. “I’d be content with a piece of stale bread at this point.”  
Kili chuckled. “With or without mould?”  
“Preferably without,” Fili gave back with the hint of a smirk. “But I don’t think I’d be too choosy right now.”

Their luck had run out for the day, as it started raining soon after, and it didn’t stop raining for a few days. But whenever one of them was miserable enough to start complaining the other would take his hand, and they could find solace in each other. Whatever had happened and whatever would yet happen, they were together. 

When Kili’s improvised fishing tool broke in his attempt at catching another trout he gave up on it, and the brothers kept themselves barely alive on the eggs of various water birds. But those became more scarce the further they came, and they noticed that there were hardly any fish left, too. 

“We’re getting closer to the lake,” Fili remarked. “The dragon has poisoned the lake and the water the river carried with it.”  
Kili nodded silently and Fili took his hand, doing his best at giving his brother an encouraging smile. “It means we’re getting closer to home. Within a few more days we will reach the lake.”

The rain stopped some time that night, and with the breaking of day, the two dwarves crawled out of the small nest they had made in the high reeds with their cloaks, and stretched their cold, stiff limbs. To the west they saw the borders of Mirkwood, and following the dark line northwards with his eyes Fili suddenly froze, and whispering Kili’s name, pulled him close.

Towards the north the rays of the rising sun glinted as if they hit a mirror. And behind the mirror of the lake, a single, solitary peak rose out of the mist, greeting them like a beacon.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be)

The sight of the mountain had given them new hope and new strength, but the river, poisoned as it was by the decaying body of the dead dragon, could no longer provide any form of nourishment. The spring sun had dried the ground, so walking was easier now, and neither of them could bother sleeping any more than was absolutely necessary to keep them alive.

The gnawing hunger had turned into a dull pain, but at least there were enough small streams feeding the lake that they didn’t have to suffer from thirst as well.

Instead of following the river through the forest they skirted the edge of Mirkwood and headed towards the lake, passing it at the eastern shore. The mountain had grown steadily but refused to come any closer, but now, finally, as they left the lake behind and the soft earth turned into bedrock and the towers of Dale came into view, they caught their first glimpse of the gates again that they had left more than a year ago.

They froze upon the sight. 

The great gates of Erebor were closed and hidden behind an enormous white tapestry. White, the colour of mourning. The colour of death.

“Fili...” Kili whispered. 

Fili had grown utterly still beside him as he stared at the gates. Without a word he took his brother’s hands and suddenly all weakness vanished, hunger and tiredness forgotten. The brothers all but ran towards the gates, feet skidding on wet scree as they hurried past the outskirts of Dale and towards the bridge leading into the mountain while the skies above them opened again. 

“They sealed the mountain,” Kili whispered. “They sealed the gates...”  
Fili didn’t reply, he just swallowed hard as he stared up at the white tapestry hiding the gates.   
“Does that mean Thorin has died?” Kili’s voice broke. “The mountain is only sealed when...”  
Fili shook his head. “No.” His voice was a toneless whisper. “It’s us.”  
“Fee?”  
“It’s us.” Fili’s voice cracked as he spoke louder. “They’re mourning us! Gandalf and Bilbo must have reached the mountain at least a week ago. It’s us they’re mourning inside!”

Kili stared upward at the ramparts; white banners sealed the gates up there as well. The mountain was sealed, in mourning and grief, and the gates would first open again after the funeral.

“They’re burying us,” Fili choked out. “They are burying us! They all grieve and mourn inside and mother will cry and cut off her hair and here we are...” He sobbed once. “Unable to get inside...”  
“Fee...” Kili took his brother’s arm. “We can do nothing now, we’ll have to wait.”  
“I don’t want to wait any longer!” Fili tore himself away from his brother. “I can’t! I didn’t survive all and everything we've been through and then dragged myself here to be declared dead!”  
“Fili!” Kili tried to hold his brother back but Fili tore himself away.

He ran towards the gate screaming, and having reached it started mindlessly pounding his fists against the unyielding metal. 

“Mother!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “Thorin! Open the gates! Let us in!”  
“Fili!” Kili hurried to his side and clamped his arms around his brother’s midriff, bodily dragging him away from the gate. “Fili, no!”  
“Uncle Thorin!” He screamed. He seemed completely out of his mind. “Mother! Open the gates!”  
“Fili, please come to your senses!”  
“ _Ama..._ ” Fili suddenly sagged in his brother’s arm with a sob and let himself be dragged away. “ _Ama..._ ”

Kili stared up at the gates while keeping both arms around his brother. “Fee, come to your senses,” he said again, much gentler this time. “We cannot get in, you know that. The mountain is sealed.”  
“They think us dead,” Fili whispered tonelessly, eyes closed and suddenly limp in his brother’s arms.   
“I know.” Kili swallowed hard. “I know, but we can’t break in, Fee. They’ll kill us on sight if we try to break the seal by force before we could even say our names.”  
“But...” Fili looked up at that and met his brother’s earnest eyes.

“Fee, look at us.” Kili placed a hand on Fili’s cheek. “Look at us. Look at how we must look to them. Ragged and battered and caked in mud and dirt, and with shorn hair and beards... they’ll think we’re banished criminals and I couldn’t even blame them!”  
Fili swallowed hard.   
“We have to wait.”  
“But _Ama..._ ”  
“ _Ama_ will...” Kili broke off as he stared past his brother, and Fili felt him freeze. He slowly followed his brother’s gaze.

Dwarves had appeared on the ramparts. Fili’s outbreak had not gone unnoticed and now a few guards had been sent to deal with the desecrators who had dared to disturb the mourning and tried to breach the sealed gates.  
A dozen crossbows were suddenly pointing at them.

“Fee...” Kili dragged at his brother’s arm. “Run!”  
But Fili just stared up at the ramparts, trembling but otherwise still as a stone. “No. I will not run away from the gates of my own home.”  
“Fili, please!”

“NO!” Fili tore himself out of Kili’s grip again. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled at the guards on the ramparts. “We are no criminals! We are Fili and Kili, we are not dead! We have come home!”

Kili saw the guards move and broke into a run. He careened into his brother at full speed and both of the toppled to the ground, sliding almost over the edge of the bridge, but the crossbow bolts clattered harmlessly off the stone where moments before Fili had stood. 

“DON’T SHOOT!” Fili tried to break free of Kili’s grip again but this time Kili held on with all his strength fuelled by the fear to see his brother shot dead before his eyes, before the very gates of their home.

“Fee...” He dragged his brother behind a rock and almost sat on him to keep him out of sight. “Fee, stop it! You’re only making it worse! We have to wait, there is no other way!”  
“Kee, no...” Fili dropped his head with a helpless sob. “How can they not... how can they not recognise us?”  
“We’ll wait.” Kili ran his fingers through the short, unruly strands of Fili’s hair. “We have to. There is no other...”

Both of them froze as they heard the footsteps. They were headed for them.

Their arms clasped around each other they huddled together like scared little dwarflings and cowered into the rocks at their back. The footsteps rounded the boulder and they found themselves staring at heavy, felted boots, and double axes broad hands, and even further up into the face of...

“...Dwalin?” Kili whispered hoarsely.

The axes clattered to the ground.

“It can’t be...” The voice of the weathered old warrior broke as he slowly sank to his knees. “It can’t be...” His face was white as a sheet, the blue marks of ink standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin. “How is this possible?”  
“We live...” Kili whispered. “We have survived. The curse is broken and we... we have come home.”

Dwalin reached out with a trembling hand to touch first Kili’s cheek, and then Fili’s, as if he was afraid he’d wake up from a dream, as if they might just vanish again before his eyes. “You live?” A single tear trickled down the scarred cheek and vanished into the greying beard. “You live...”

“We’ve come home.” Fili had finally found his speech back, too. “Please let us come home.”

It was those last words that shook Dwalin out of his almost trance-like state and he quickly pulled the two brothers upright with him. 

“Bless this day,” he muttered, an incredulous smile spreading on his face. “That a day of such sorrow could turn into one of such joy...”

He grabbed Fili’s hand in his right one and Kili’s in his left and headed for the gates; the other guards stared at them with wide eyes, but Dwalin didn’t grace them with a single look.

“Hurry,” he told the brothers as the two faltered after stepping through the gates. “No time to lose! They’re holding your funeral down there!”

Dwalin dragged the two with him, through the halls and down the stairs until they had reached the gate leading to the Gallery of Kings.

“We set up the ceremony here,” Dwalin explained as they headed towards the huge double gates. “There were no bodies, after all.” He then proceeded to kick the door open and still holding on to each prince he barged into the silence of the large hall with its golden floor.

Thorin, his mantle the dead white of mourning, spun around furiously as the gates opened, violently interrupting his funeral eulogy. 

“What is this?” He roared, his voice rough. “Not only that we have no bodies to bury, now they don’t get a decent funeral either?”  
“Thorin!” Dwalin roared and dragged the two brothers past the crowd of angry looking dwarves who started muttering about blasphemy, profanity and tactlessness. “There is no need for a funeral! They’ve come home! The princes have come home!”

Thorin froze as he stared open-mouthed at the three approaching dwarves, first at Dwalin and then at the two shorn, ragged and dirty figures he was dragging along with him. But no matter how gaunt and pale with hunger or how dirty they were, no matter the shorn hair and beards, Thorin instantly recognised them and made a trembling step towards his nephews. But his sister beat him to it.

Dís had stood silently beside the pedestal covered in white silk where Fili’s and Kili’s weapon had been laid out. But before Thorin had even taken his first step she was running towards her sons, eyes wide, cheeks wet, but still in utter silence. Dwalin now let go of their hands and took a step back as Dís reached them, and both of them sank to their knees to lean into their mother’s embrace. Dís closed her arms around them, one hand buried into dark hair, the other into strands of gold, as she pressed the faces of her sons against her breasts.

“My sons...” She whispered, tears running unheeded. “My babies...”

She looked up as she felt her brother step beside her. Beads of moisture clung to Thorin’s beard and his voice was hoarse and trembling as he spoke.

“My sister-sons.”

Both Fili and Kili peeled their faces out of the folds of their mother’s dress to look up at him and slowly, laboured onto their feet again.

Thorin held out his arms and closed his arms around them as they stepped into his embrace.

“Mahal has not abandoned us after all.”

After a moment he dropped his arms and stepped back, resting one hand on each of their shoulders. “Welcome home.”

It was then that the dwarves around them broke out in exultation so ear-battering that the pillars in the hall seemed to tremble. Fili and Kili slipped their hands into each other as they turned around to face the people.

Moments later someone broke free from the back of the crowd and came running towards them. Both their faces lit up as they recognised their friend, and without consciously making a decision Bilbo threw himself at Kili who closed his arms around the hobbit in a rib-cracking hug. When he let go Bilbo fell into Fili’s embrace and after letting go, stood back, completely speechless and wiping at his face. 

When he had finally gotten his senses and feelings under control again Bilbo smiled at them through his abating tears. “Welcome home.”

* * *

After trekking for two weeks of rain through the open plains it was wonderful to feel clean again, and Fili and Kili spent more than two hours in the bathhouse, for the first time in years enjoying Dís’s mothering instead of barely tolerating it for her sake. She fussed around them, washed their hair and completely gave in to her mothering instincts, checking for ticks and scrapes and expressing her sorrow and worry about their cropped hair and their bodies, gaunt by hunger and exhaustion.

She then proceeded to feed them, having prepared the food she had given them when they had been children and for one reason or another too sick to eat: bread soaked in warm, honeyed milk, and the taste of it was safety, comfort and home. 

They crawled into Fili’s bed afterwards – no one had for even a heartbeat thought about them sleeping in separate quarters again – and as Dís watched her sons sleep, arms clasped around each other, her tears flowed again, in sorrow for what her sons had endured, and in gratitude that their ordeal was finally over.

* * *

Even half-starved and exhausted as they were, Fili and Kili were still young, healthy dwarves despite their past ordeal and were quick to recover, physically at least. 

A week after their return Bilbo and Gandalf were bid farewell with a lavish dinner the night before they were to leave, not quite a feast, but more than an everyday dinner. But since the memories were still too hurtful, the wounds still sore and not quite healed, there was no talk about their journey; rather, they kept the conversation around the memories of the Company’s journey to Erebor, far enough in the past that most mishaps and events could be laughed about. 

After soup and bread, and quite a bit of ale as well, Dís uncovered a large skillet that she set in front of her firstborn. Fili’s eyes lightened up at the sight of fried liver, apple and onions, his favourite dish, and his mother gave him a warm smile.  
Then she uncovered another dish, but when she looked at Kili her smile faltered. “Kili?”

Fili’s hand froze halfway up to his mouth as he felt Kili tense beside him. “Kee?”

Kili mutely shook his head as he stared at the roast pheasant his mother had so lovingly presented for him. And then, with a move so sudden that his chair toppled over he stood up and staggered a step back, his eyes still on the roast bird resting on the silver platter in his mother’s hands. Dís’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at her younger son who was violently shaking his head and looked as if he was about to hurl the contents of his stomach onto the carpet any moment.

Fili dropped his fork and was at his brother’s side in an instant, slinging his arms around Kili’s shoulders. “Kee... Kili, my Kili, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”  
Kili mutely shook his head and buried his face into his brother’s shoulder.  
“Kee, talk to me. What on earth is the matter?”  
“I can’t eat it,” Kili whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry, I can’t...”  
“Kee, look at me.” Fili gently forced Kili to look up at him in pressing his hand under his chin. “You love roast pheasant. Why can’t you eat it anymore? Is it because of... what happened?”  
Still unable to speak, Kili simply nodded.  
“I’m no bird anymore.” Fili smoothed a few hairs back from Kili’s face.

Kili shook his head again, but after a few moments, he broke into tears. The words all but forced themselves out then, like a spring flood, about the day when he had encountered the bandits, the roasting bird and his horror when he had believed the bird to be the hawk. His panic about the wolf, and how he had buried the bird under corpses and as much earth as he could. And the hate for himself at his stupidity when he had discovered the bird to be a pheasant the hawk must have caught for his own dinner.

Fili held him through all his, his tears vanishing into Kili’s hair as he listened to the horrors of that day. Kili had never talked about it before, had tried to forget about it, but forgetting such a thing is impossible. Fili looked up at his mother who still stood there as if turned to stone, the platter with the roasted bird all but forgotten in her hands, and her tears silently trickling down her cheeks.

After taking a deep breath, Fili met her eyes and gestured at her in _Iglishmek_. She shook her head at first, but with a sigh, set the platter down and after a few moments, handed Fili a small plate with a bit of meat of the bird, cut into small, bite-sized bits. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She asked.  
Fili met her eyes for a moment before he focussed on his brother again.”Kee, come, look at me.”  
Kili looked up, but when he saw what Fili was holding out to him he gagged.  
“No, Kee, please, you can’t be recoiling from roast bird like that for the rest of your life. You can’t run away every time someone eats fowl in your vicinity. I know you love pheasant, but even if you don’t want to eat it anymore, please, don’t let this memory control you.” He ate the piece of meat himself while holding Kili’s gaze. “You are there to help me fight my nightmares. I am going to help you with yours.”

Fili took another bit of the meat and touched Kili’s lips with it. Not taking his eyes of his brother’s Kili finally forced himself to open his mouth, but gagged again when Fili slipped the piece of meat between his open lips. Fili rested his hands on his cheeks, gently running his thumbs across Kili’s cheekbones and locking their gaze until Kili had finally managed to eat the tiny morsel of meat without retching.

The others at the table had helplessly watched the whole ugly scene, it was enough to ruin anyone’s appetite to listen to Kili’s tearful recounting of that fateful day. Bilbo kept looking mournfully at his plate, not because he regretted not being able to eat but because he couldn’t witness what was happening. Couldn’t bear to watch Fili sitting next to Kili with his arms around him, feeding him bits of fowl while patiently and relentlessly murmuring endearments and encouragements.

A strained silence hung over the dinner table when the brothers finally settled down on their chairs again. Conversation didn’t pick up again and shortly afterwards, Fili excused themselves and escorted his exhausted brother to bed. 

They were there the next morning to bid Bilbo and Gandalf farewell, but as Dís watched her sons she could see that they would bear the scars of their ordeal for the rest of their lives. Something had not returned with her sons, something they had lost during the last year, and the longer she watched them, the more it seemed to her that she was looking at two dwarves at least twice their age. 

She remembered two young warriors, close and in love, their heads in the clouds and their hearts beating strongly, full of life and laughter. The two dwarves returned to her were silent, withdrawn and while still close to each other, maybe even closer than before, there was no laughter anymore. She had hardly seen them smile. 

They clung to each other as if still afraid they might be torn apart again any moment, and of one of them so much as left to room for going to the lavatory the other was restless and kept looking at the door until he returned. She could only hope that with time, they would find their inner peace again, but as she looked at them now, standing so close to each other that their hands and shoulders touched, she knew that whatever it was that was missing was a wound no amount of time could ever heal.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter definitely NSFW**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, then. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, and sorry for being unable to keep up with myself and not responding to every comment individually. You're all awesome for letting me know what you thought, and I love you all to bits for it.  
> Find me on tumblr: [Lakritzwolf](http://lakritzwolf.tumblr.com/) 
> 
> [Due Tramonti - Two Sunsets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPWJ99VNa0c&feature=youtu.be)

As days passed by and turned into weeks and months; as wounds healed and bodies recovered and their hair and beards grew, still Fili and Kili were aware of something missing. As if some piece of them had been stolen, as if something that had always been there was suddenly gone. And they had no way of naming that part, putting words to a feeling that left them at unease, a dark, empty spot in a deep, hidden place of their souls.

They lived together in the crown prince’s quarters; all of Kili’s belongings had been moved there as it was never questioned again who would be the consort at Fili’s side for the rest of their time. But despite them sleeping in the same bed each and every night, they only knew that something was not right, but not what it was. 

But they also knew that they could not go on living their lives clinging to each other like that; they had talked about this, at night, in their bed, holding on to each other as if their bodies refused to listen to the words they were speaking. But even as they tried, as they began to force themselves to go separate ways only for a bit at a time, they could both feel the absence of the other like numb limb, a sore spot, an itch that nothing could ease. They kept telling each other it would go over, that with time they would get over it and would come to terms with what happened. They kept telling this to each other every night.

And yet it refused to happen.

* * *

After another long and frustrating afternoon in the training halls Kili headed back to their quarters earlier than usual and in a foul mood to boot. His concentration had been all over the place, as had, subsequently, his arrows. He hadn't missed his mark as many times as today in years and not only that, he had managed to damage three arrows and ruin a fourth. 

After hanging his bow onto its hook he threw the three salvageable arrows onto the table in the main chamber and headed for the large chest of drawers where he remembered putting his tools. Moving into these quarters had happened a little hasty maybe, and Kili was still looking for things every now and then. 

When somewhat later, Fili entered the hearth chamber of their quarters, he found his brother digging through a drawer while cursing under his breath. 

“Something the matter?”  
Kili looked up and gave his brother a crooked smile. “Nah, I just can't find my straightening tool. I shot like I was drunk and trying to draw the bow with my feet.”  
Fili put his swords down and snorted. “That's something I'd love to see you try.”

Kili proceeded to rummage around in the drawer and when he failed to find what he was looking for, tried the next one. 

“What?” He enquired then. “Me shooting drunk, or me trying to draw the bow with my feet?”  
Fili draped his shirt, moist with sweat, over a chair to dry. “Well, I've seen you try to shoot while drunk once, so I'd settle for...”  
“Hah!” Kili triumphantly held up the tool he used to straighten out his arrows. “Found it.”  
Fili looked past him with a frown. “What are those?”

Kili followed his gaze. Three small, wooden balls were rolling around in the drawer. He stopped short and took one of them, only to realise that the drawer held a bag filled with those. In all, it had to be a dozen of them. 

Turning around towards his brother, he realised that Fili was as puzzled as he was. 

“I've never seen those before,” Kili said and turned it around in his palm.  
Fili stepped past him and took another one of the wooden balls. As he did so, his frown deepened. “I've never seen a bag like this, either. Did those come with our things from Harad, maybe?”  
“Harad?” Kili shook his head. “What would...”  
Fili cocked his head as Kili broke off mid-sentence. “Kee?”

“When we...” Kili closed his eyes and a deep frown appeared on his face. “When we were about to leave, I remember the... the _sangoma_ giving Bilbo some fruit. I remember Bilbo asking if we were supposed to eat them with a hammer and chisel.”  
Fili stared at the thing in his hand. “A fruit? From Harad? It's bound to be bone dry by now.”  
Kili held the fruit to his ear and shook it. “There's still some sort of liquid inside.”

When Kili opened his eyes again the brothers' gaze met and Fili put the orb down again with a shrug. 

“I'm not sure I want to have anything to do with things from Harad anymore.”  
“Me neither.” Kili was about to put the ball away when another memory stirred in him. 

_It seems the good sangoma has offended Bilbo's sensibilities by offering him an aphrodisiac._

“Bilbo was all puffed up...” Kili opened his eyes again and closed his fingers around the fruit, if it was indeed one, in his palm. “And Gandalf said that... that the _sangoma_ had offered him an aphrodisiac.”  
Fili snorted under his breath. “What, the fruit?”  
Kili shrugged.

But as he looked up again their eyes met, and the silence around them suddenly became very heavy. 

Wordlessly, Kili took his fletching knife, the blade small and sturdy, and scraped some of the hard, wooden husk away. A small crack appeared, too straight to be random, but as he was about to insert the tip of the knife into that crack Fili bade him wait. He unceremoniously emptied a small bowl of polished stones their mother had put on top of the drawer for decoration and offered this to Kili who now twisted the knife in the crack. The fruit fell apart in two halves, spilling its content of dark, red juice into the bowl. The inside of the shell was lined with strange, jelly-like flesh of an even darker colour than the juice.

Kili curiously touched the flesh with his forefinger. “Feels like...aspic.”  
“Fruity aspic sounds pretty disgusting,” Fili chuckled.  
“It doesn't smell disgusting at all.” Kili dipped his forefinger into the juice and, after smelling it, licked his finger.

The taste was nothing like he ever had experienced before. It was sweet and the slightest bit tart, like a ripe apple or rosehips, but also spicy and warm on the tongue, a bit like cinnamon and pepper. It was delicious. 

He eagerly went for another helping, this time with two fingers, watched by an amused brother who had his arms crossed and was shaking his head at the small hums of delight Kili emitted as he licked the juice off his fingers.

“You should try this,” Kili said eagerly and offered Fili the bowl.  
“You know I am not one for sweet things.”  
“It's not just sweet.” Kili licked his lips. “It's... it's...”

Fili gave in with an amused roll of his eyes and dipped his little finger into the juice. But he had to admit that the taste was indeed delicious. It was, in fact, hard to stop after the first taste. 

Kili chuckled after a while, or maybe giggle was the better word. “I feel like back then when we stole _Amad's_ honey and hid behind the stable.”  
Fili chortled and nodded. “And she caught us and gave us a handful, I've not forgotten that, either.”  
“At least no one is going to give us a handful for this,” Kili gave back, grinning. 

But as Fili caught sight of his brother's face, his own grin vanished. 

“Fee?” Kili tilted his head.  
“Your lips are...” Fili frowned. “Red...”  
Kili looked at his fingers. “Yes, it stains a little.” He was about to lift his fingers again but faltered when Fili, very gently, caught his wrists.

Kili's eyes widened when Fili brought his fingers close and a soft gasp flew from his lips as Fili let his tongue swipe over his fingers to catch the stray drops of the last of the juice. Fili's lips, he noticed, were stained dark red as well. It was a sight that was impossibly wrong and at the same time, impossibly enticing.

Their eyes met again, and their gazes locked with an intensity they had not expected and both felt their heartbeat quicken and their breathing pick up speed. They hadn’t even been aware they had leaned in to each other before their lips touched, but when they did, they also realised that they had not kissed like this ever since that fateful day in the East Bight over a year ago. A tender brush of lips every now and then, a chaste kiss of familiarity and affection, no more.

But this was something different. Warmer, somehow, deeper and while still tender, definitely not so chaste anymore, at least not after Fili’s tongue swept across Kili’s lips to taste more of the cinnamon sweetness. 

When they broke the kiss and leaned back, eyes heavy-lidded and lips parted, they both realised that they had all but forgotten their love and passion in their ardent longing for each other’s company. Getting each other back had been the only thing they had wanted for so long that they had been unable to think of something else, to think of more when they had finally been restored to each other.

Being close, being together again had given them calm, had given them contentment, but it had not given them any happiness; too heavy the sorrow and the memories of pain, the scars running too deep to be easily forgotten. But as Kili rested his hands on his brother’s shoulders, as Fili closed his hands around Kili’s hips, they felt a warmth return they had not realised had been gone. And they shared a smile.

“ _Nadadith..._ ” Fili whispered, his thumbs circling his brother’s skin.  
“ _Amralimê,_ ” was Kili’s whispered reply. 

Their lips met again, their arms closed around each other, and as their bodies pressed against each other their kiss deepened, each tasting the warm cinnamon sweetness on the other’s lips and tongue. 

Fili tore his head away with a sound that was half moan, half growl. “Bed,” he muttered hoarsely. “Come to bed, now.”  
Kili simply nodded, captured in his brother’s gaze that was darkened with sudden lust and hunger. 

They landed on the bed, gracelessly and unmindful of it, their lips locking and their hands tugging at clothing, fumbling at laces and buckles in a frantic struggle to feel more skin. When the last bit of clothing was finally shed their lips met again and as they devoured each other’s lips, their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Finally, Kili broke the kiss with a low moan and rolled away from his brother.

“More,” he whispered. “Want you...”  
Fili propped himself up on knees and hands, smiling down at his brother. When he settled down again it was with his face close to Kili’s groin and his own trembling hardness in front of Kili’s face who stared at it hungrily for a few heartbeats before engulfing it as deeply as he would. Fili’s head dropped with a heavy moan before he was able to repay his brother in kind.

They were both driven by a hunger close to starvation; senses almost overwhelmed by sensation, by arousal and scent of male and musk and sweet, pungent cinnamon; lashed on by each other’s moans and the sensation in their own bodies. And then something happened that never happened before, something they had not believed was possible. They came together, on the same heartbeat, in an explosion of sensation that all but fused their souls and bodies together into one. It lasted for a single heartbeat, but it was enough to make them feel as if they were drinking and drowning in their own completion instead of each other’s. 

They fell away from each other with harsh and heavy breaths, unsure of what just had happened, but when they managed to arrange themselves into another embrace they relished in the warm afterglow of their climax while sharing soft, gentle kisses tasting of love, of completion and of spicy sweetness. 

And before both of them had thought possible, they were growing hard again, their kisses becoming more heated, more passionate, more demanding. 

“Want you,” Kili whispered against his brother’s lips. “Inside. Need to feel you now.”  
“I can’t possibly...” Fili replied breathlessly. “I don’t think I already can.”  
Wordlessly, Kili reached out and closed his fingers around his brother’s lovely cock, eliciting a gasp and a groan. “Want you,” he whispered again. “No excuses.”  
Fili leaned back with a shaky chuckle and sat up.

His face went from disbelieving amusement to puzzlement and to hectic as he rummaged around in the nightstand. “No oil,” he muttered. But the other nightstand failed to produce anything like oil as well. “We can’t, Kili I can’t, I’m sorry...”  
“Do it without!” Kili grabbed his brother’s arm and tried to drag him atop his body.  
“Oh no! I won’t!” Fili kissed his brother feverishly. “Last time I tried that you were bleeding and couldn’t sit or walk properly for days and I’m not doing that again!”  
“I don’t care!”  
“But I do!”

Their eyes met, dark and clouded with lust, mouths tight with frustration, chests heaving in frustration and arousal.

Suddenly, Kili jumped off the bed and all but ran back into the hearth chamber. He came back with the two halves of the strange, hard-shelled fruit, tossing one half to his brother while putting the other on his nightstand. “Try that,” he rasped.  
“That’s not oil,” Fili gave back as he stared at the red, jelly like substance.  
“No, but...” Kili dug his finger in and scraped something of that substance out. He then proceeded to dab it onto one of Fili’s nipples. Fili gasped at the sensation, hot and prickling, and couldn’t help but bury his fingers into Kili’s hair when the latter leaned forward to lick it away again. “It might just work,” he whispered against Fili’s skin.

Fili pushed him onto his back with a groan. “We will both regret this.”  
“I don’t care.” Kili’s voice was deep and rough with arousal. “I’ll regret that in the morning. Right now I want it.”  
Fili shook his head and scooped some of the red jelly out of the shell. “If this hurts you I’ll stop and...”  
“Just do it!”  
With another shaky chuckle, Fili spread his brother’s legs and cautiously reached for the most hidden and intimate spot of his body. But as he touched that with his fingers coated in the red, cinnamon jelly Kili moaned and arched his back, his cock swelling to a hardness that made it seem impossible that he had climaxed only minutes before.

Fili felt his whole body tremble as his fingers slid inside his brother’s body, partly because it seemed so easy and partly because Kili gave in to his arousal in completely mindless screams. Part of it was Fili’s name, but most was just inarticulate sounds, and as Fili pushed further to find that sweet, hidden spot Kili arched his back with a high pitched scream that sounded utterly alien to him. He stroked, feeling his brother’s legs tremble, and with a feeling of disbelief mingling with arousal while listening to his brother’s mindless screaming stroked again, and once more, and Kili came in a spurt of white across his belly without anything touching his hard, throbbing cock.

Kili fell back with a wail as Fili removed his finger. “I wanted to come with you, with you inside me!” He whipped his face. “Don’t stop touching me!”  
“Kili... my Kili...” Fili shook his head with a besotted smile at seeing his brother so needy and undone. But he spread his legs again and took hold of his own cock, hard and heavy in his hand, to push against Kili’s entrance. 

It was surprisingly easy, he discovered, whatever it was in that fruit was not only slippery but... Fili stopped thinking as the feeling of the cinnamon scented warmth and the tight hotness of his brother’s body engulfed his cock. He mindlessly gripped his brother’s thighs and adjusted his hips before he started moving, and his hard and breathless groans mingled with Kili’s as he moved, searching and finding...

Kili was growing hard again.

“’S not possible,” Kili gasped. “I can’t... I can’t...”  
“Do you want me to...”  
“NO!” Kili arched his hips. “No! Don’t stop!”

Fili couldn’t have stopped had his life depended on it, though a tiny bit of his mind wasn’t sure if his brother’s life wouldn’t actually depend on him being able to stop. But that last bit of sense was quickly dissolving as Kili locked his legs around him, and he fell forward, supporting himself with one hand while the other closed around Kili’s cock, impossibly hard after impossibly short a time. 

It happened again. They came again on a single heartbeat, the other’s name on their lips as Fili spilled inside his brother’s body while Kili came over Fili’s trembling fingers.

When they parted, it was with heavy breaths, gasping for air with heartbeats that refused to slow. They turned towards each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that was hard, hungry and messy, tasting of love and need and spicy sweetness. 

“I can’t possibly...” Kili broke the kiss with a groan to fall onto his back. “You’re killing me, Fee!”  
“I do?” Fili looked at Kili’s hardening cock and then at his own that was rising already as well. “It was your idea with that stupid...”  
He didn’t get to finish that sentence due to the assault of Kili’s lips on his, but as Kili rolled on top of him and nudged his legs apart he threw back his head with a shaky chuckle. “You’re killing me. Kee, you’re killing me, but I’ll die a happy dwarf.”

Kili flashed him a mischievous grin before reaching for the other half of the fruit. Fili closed his eyes when he felt it, the slick coolness of the red jelly that instantly turned into heat upon touching the sensitive skin. It turned into liquid fire when Kili reached inside him and Fili heard himself making sounds he had no idea he was able to produce. His breathing literally stopped when Kili found what he had been searching for, and there was no mind left to think with when he stroked. All he felt was Kili, and it was not enough, and too much at the same time. 

Kili watched his brother become undone as he did what Fili had done to him before, watched him spill across his belly, beads of pearly white into golden curls. He gently cupped the soft and sensitive pouch at the base of Fili’s softening member, fondling him tenderly until the hasty gulps of air abated and his breathing had calmed down somewhat. 

When he pushed past the tight barrier of Fili’s body, when he felt Fili’s heat surround him, tight and snug, he also felt the unfamiliar glow heat up his cock and burn into his own body. He began to move, slowly at first, but the sensation took his mind away and he started pounding into his brother’s body with a force that made Fili scream. A strange, detached part of Kili’s mind watched what was happening, that Fili’s cock was growing hard again, that with every stroke Kili sent through him was making him arch, and the thought brushed his mind that this should be impossible. But that last bit of consciousness quickly vanished and in a last burst of energy he pulled Fili’s hips closer, resting it on his thighs to close his fingers around him.

It happened again then, the third and final time, their minds and bodies turning into one for the moment of their completion, for a completion it was, completion in each other, for a moment, a single heartbeat, turning into one.

After that, there was truly nothing left. Fili was lying flat on his back and gasping for air, Kili was leaning over him and watched the droplets of sweat falling from his face onto Fili’s belly. The heat softened into a glow and then into a pleasant warmth as he slipped out of his brother’s body, and it was all he could do to crawl towards Fili’s side to collapse there.

Their bodies pressed against each other their lips met again, but this time, exhaustion won, and they more passed out than fell asleep.

* * *

Dís didn’t think much about it when her sons did not appear for breakfast, but when they also failed to show up for lunch she gave in to her worry and went to their chambers to check on them. There was no answer when she knocked so she entered cautiously, to be met by silence.

She found them still in bed, still fast asleep, but this time, it was different. She had given in to her mothering instincts a lot of times since her sons’ return and had checked on them while they slept, and she had always found them curled around each other.

This time, she found Fili asleep on his side, curled up and snoring and one arm hanging awkwardly out of the bed, while Kili was lying on his back, sprawled out and mouth slightly agape. She shook her head with a smile, and then she noticed the smell. Sweat, the musk of sex, and a strange sweetness she could not identify. But it was clear that her sons had had quite a night, and with a shake of her head and a tender smile, she vanished as soundlessly as she had come. 

She simply ordered a meal to be brought to her sons’ quarters and instructed a serving maid with changing their sheets as soon as they were seen heading to the bathhouse.

* * *

Waking up was arduous. Fili hardly managed to open his eyes and turning onto his back was an ordeal. 

“Fee,” he heard Kili’s hoarse voice beside him.  
“What?”  
“My cock hurts.”  
Fili chuckled under his breath. “I think mine is dead.”  
“I think I won’t ever touch one of those Mahal damned fruits again.”  
“And I think we shouldn’t have taken all of it.”  
Kili groaned. “Whatever. I need a bath.”  
“You and me both, brother.”

They turned their heads to face each other, and shared a tired, but heartfelt grin. 

After soaking in warm water for a significant amount of time they felt recovered enough to face other sentient beings again, but not before they had devoured all of the food they had found on the table after their return, silently thanking and blessing their mother.

* * *

There was no need to talk about what had happened and what it had changed. Not for them. Not for Fili and Kili, who still knew each other’s souls and minds as well as their own. 

Their mother had noticed the change after that night, sure that she was not the only one who could see that the light had returned to their eyes and the laughter into their voice. There were still times when the heavy silence was back, when they would look at each other with the shadow of grief and pain, but while the carelessness and childish joy was forever lost to them, they were finally at peace now. 

Their past still haunted them sometimes, would come back in a nightmare of loneliness and longing, would arise in a glance and the touch of a hand. The scars ran too deep to ever heal completely, and the pain would and could never be completely forgotten. They were a part of them, a part that made the bond between them stronger, but it was a pain they would first escape the day they left the world for Mahal’s Halls.

Their story passed into song and legend, the two brothers and their journey to find a way to break the curse that had forced them apart and almost destroyed their lives and souls.

  
_Forever together, forever apart  
Forgotten soul, remembered heart_

_Until the sun will eat the moon  
Until the stars will shine at noon_

_Fur at night and feathers at day  
Until the sun will cease her sway_


	23. Epilogue

There had been talk and even discontentment after the day that the crown prince and his consort had exchanged their vows, had bound themselves to each other in yet another way, for everyone to see.

The talk was about responsibility, about heritage, about the line of kings, about family and blood and the Line of Durin. Thorin had heard it, and he knew that whoever voiced their worries about the continuation of Durin’s line and the succession of the throne was in their right to do so. 

But no one had any right to step between the prince and his consort. No one had any right to try and tear the brothers apart. And while Thorin knew that they had to find a solution he also knew that the solution was not trying to force a wife onto the future king when there clearly was no room for anyone else in his life, his heart and his soul.

It had come so far that Dís had expressed her willingness to re-marry and attempt to conceive and give birth to another heir so Fili and Kili could stay together, but when she had mentioned it, her idea had caused her sons more discomfort than she had thought possible. Not because of giving up the throne, but for her mother willing to do this for their sake.

In the years that had followed the return home they had grown closer yet to each other, two brothers that could read each other’s thoughts and minds without a word and could feel each other’s souls without a glance. They had grown, and matured into adults worthy of the ascension from crown prince and prince to King and Consort. But as gladly as Thorin would have given the crown to his nephew, he knew that the question of succession had to be solved before he could. 

Both Kili and Fili knew that too, and they spend many an evening talking about it and wrecking their brains, because they were aware of it as well that once Thorin would give up the crown, by choice or by death, the Line of Durin had to continue somehow. 

“I don’t want a wife,” Fili said one evening, as he had said so many times before. “And I don’t need one.” He sighed heavily and dragged his hands down his face. “All I need is the mother of an heir.”  
And Kili looked up at that and his eyes widened.   
“Kee?”  
“That’s it.” Kili grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him onto his feet. “That’s it! That’s the solution!”  
“What?” Fili followed the tug of his arm. “What is?”  
“Come on!” Kili dragged his brother bodily out of the door. “We need to go to speak with Thorin!”

Thorin, King under the Mountain, his hair now more silver than black, looked up as his nephews barged into his study without so much as a by-your-leave. 

“Uncle!” Fili was as much out of breath as his brother. “Uncle! We have it! We know what to do!”  
“Well you obviously don’t know that what you should do is knock at doors,” Thorin gave back drily. “What is it, lads?”

Fili and Kili exchanged a look before sitting down, and as they explained, Thorin’s face lit up and a gentle smile spread across his features.

* * *

While it was uncommon that the King surrendered his crown to his heir while he was still alive it was not unheard of, and after the long years of the burden of leadership Thorin passed his crown on gladly, for he knew that he was giving it to someone worthy of the task and ready for the burden. 

But with his last words he spoke as a king, he did not address the dwarf he was about to crown, but the people of the mountain, the dwarves of Erebor, who had come to witness the succession of Durin’s Line and who doubtlessly wondered how the succession would continue with the future King’s chosen mate.

“Hear me, Folk of Durin, People of Erebor, for I am Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain.” His voice boomed through the large hall, audible even in the farthest corner. “Today, I shall declare a change of the laws of succession, a law that will allow the Line of Durin to prosper and continue through all ages and all obstacles that fate may yet pass our way. The council has given consent to this law, and never shall it be applied unthoughtfully.” He took a deep breath and raised his voice.

“Let it be known that from this day onward, if the chosen spouse of a King, and only the King, is unable, for whatever reason, to give him the heirs he needs, the King is allowed to find a woman who will bind herself to him in oath of blood and vows. He will not be forced to cast his chosen mate aside. In this case only, it will not be adultery if he so sires his children on the chosen woman who will bear the title ‘Mother of the Royal Heir’, and the children the King sires on her are considered legally his, heirs of the Line of Durin, as they are of Durin’s Blood. The Sons of Durin have always done their duty for their people, and they will continue to do so gladly and with all their heart and strength, as they always have, until the end of time. But no Son of Durin shall henceforth be forced to suffer a broken heart or cause one while shouldering the burden of leadership. For even if it is true that no king can rule with his heart alone, he cannot rule without one, either.”

When he then stepped aside, and lowered his crown onto Fili’s brow, and when Fili crowned his brother as his chosen consort, the cheering shook the mountain.

* * *

For a time, Kili bore a mild feeling of regret that he would never have children of his own, but when Fili’s firstborn was laid into his arms, he forgot about his sorrow as he looked into the blue eyes of Erebor’s future.


End file.
